To Be a Man
by Sadie Elfgirl
Summary: Battling to earn the respect of his family, Aragorn becomes entangled in a web of treachery and deceit that threatens all he holds dear. Complete!
1. Growing Pains

**Okay, I am going to put these author notes in this chapter and in the last chapter, just so everyone catches what happened here. First off, let me offer my humble apologies for the very lengthy amount of time that has passed since I last posted anything. For those of you who saw the note I made on my profile page let me off a few more details. I was the victim of someone who I know using my trust and breaking into my e-mail account, deleting all of my personal letters and the reviews that I have received from all of you, then using my e-mail account to break into my account at FF-Net and delete all my stories. Fortunately I keep all my stories backed up, but I did lose all my wonderful reviews which makes me very sad because I really appreciated everything everyone ever sent me. After that, our computer crashed, so I could not access the internet for over a month in my home. But I am back now and I hope you all like the conclusion of my tale.:)**

It was hot.

Sunshine poured into the crowded town square with blazing intensity, creating a furnace-like atmosphere. Dogs lay, panting, in whatever shade they could find. The people who had gathered drew hands across brows, wiping away sweat.

Therefore, the tall figure wearing a heavy cloak with a hood pulled low over his face drew a fair amount of attention.

He hated that. A wry grin pulled at the corners of his shadowed mouth. However, he realized that he would most likely garner _more_ attention _without _the hood.

The figure stood at the very edge of the crowd, nonchalantly leaning against a building. Only a very sharp observer would have noticed how tense his body was. Within the woolen confines of his hood, his eyes darted back and forth over the seething mass of people almost frantically. Searching…

Many were the curious glances thrown his way, but since he did not seem to be doing anything more exciting than leaning against a wall, those who looked on him quickly decided that there were more interesting things to commit their attention to.

Like the hanging that was about to take place.

The gallows stood in the very center of town, and that was the reason for the crowd's presence. They sweltered in the blazing heat for the chance to watch a felon hang. Already a grumble was filling the air. What was taking so long? Why didn't they just bring the fellow out and be done with it? It was too hot to stay outside in such a crowd for long.

A low hissing roar rose from those nearest the gallows, and was soon taken up by those in back. The accused was being brought forth.

The cloaked figure straightened, desperately craning his head to see the one they were leading to be hung. Tall as he was, he could catch no more than a glimpse of dark hair over the crowd. "Move," he hissed through clenched teeth. "_Move_."

The people started to jeer nastily. Now everyone could see why it was taking so long to bring the accused to his fate. There were two men pulling him forward, and they had their hands quite full. He was fighting them every inch of the way.

They started up the stairs, and the hooded figure drew in a sharp breath. At last he could get a clear view of the prisoner.

Dark hair hung to the man's shoulders and flew across his face as he kicked and struggled. The unshaven stubble on his cheeks made him appear older than his years, but in truth he could be no more than twenty-five. His clothes were battered and torn. Obviously, his life was one of hard labor for little reward. Silver eyes glared at his captors even as they stuggled to put the noose over his head. He was in no way making it easy for them to accomplish their task.

With a vicious curse, the tall figure leapt forward, ruthlessly pushing his way through the packed masses of people. Outraged cries rose in his wake, but he paid them no heed. He had only one thought in mind; to get to that platform and _stop the hanging_.

A pompous town official stood in front of the condemned and unrolling a scroll, began to read off the accusations against the dark haired man. "For breaking and entering…"

"Hey!"

"Get back, we were here first!"

"Watch who you're pushing!"

As the crowd became aware of him, the hooded figure found himself at the end of some pushing himself. He struggled on almost desperately, but the people were pressed in too thick. Someone caught hold of his cloak as he passed and yanked, apparently hoping to pull him back.

His hand flew to the brooch that held the garment at his throat and swiftly released it before he was strangled. As the cloak fell away, a gasp arose from those nearest him.

"Failure to comply with the law…"

Long blond hair shone brilliantly in the sunlight. Blue eyes blazed in a fair face. Intricate braids were tucked behind delicately pointed ears… "An elf!"

Legolas Thranduilion swore violently as the crowd's interest swirled toward him. He thrust himself forward, but could make even less headway than before. They were closing in on him…staring…pointing…blocking his way…_he could not get through_! "Get out of my way!" The fair being frantically shouldered through the humans that swarmed around him, but there were too many of them… "MOVE!"

"And general intent of malice, it is the decree of this town that the man known as 'Strider' shall be…" the town official's voice trailed off as he slowly began to realize what was happening below him was more than just the ordinary shoving for a better position. His eyes went wide as he saw the tall elf's struggle.

Legolas' face was twisted into a ferocious expression, fear making him angry. "Strider!" His hands were already reaching for his bow. If he could not reach the man he would have to hit the rope…icy fear struck him as he remembered that he did not _have_ the weapon with him.

The dark haired captive heard his friend. His struggles increased tenfold.

Knowing only that there had to be a hanging, the town official came to the conclusion that if the elf reached the platform before it had taken place, the man known as Strider would not face his judgment after all. Swiftly he turned and signalled to the hangman.

The men holding Strider jumped back.

The platform beneath the man's feet dropped away.

Legolas stared in horror as his friend fell…

_Three weeks earlier._

"Estel, if you attempt an act of such foolishness, I will be forced to revise my opinion of your intelligence." Elladan's dark brows drew together in a ferocious frown. "Not, you understand, that it was ever very high in the first place…"

The dark haired elf's twin was also scowling, his fair features clouded. "He is right, Estel. You need to find another way down." Elrohir's eyes were fixed on a point far above the ground. There, nestled within the braches of a rather monstrous oak sat their brother.

The human leaned forward, his own face rumpled into a scowl equal to that of his elder brothers. Dark hair swung about his face, but it could not entirely hide the fierce glare of his silver eyes. "Both you and Elladan were able to accomplish the task with relative ease. I do not see why I should have such great difficulty."

Elladan cursed softly. He should have known not to attempt such a stunt in front of the young human. Aragorn followed him and Elrohir through everything. Usually, they could talk him out of doing things that only elves could accomplish ( and still keep their lives) but recently… Elrond's first born shook his head, lost in dark thoughts. Within the past few months, he had glimpsed a startling change sweep over his little brother. It was almost as if he was trying to prove something.

"Estel," Elrohir called up again. "Do not even think of it. Look, one of us can come and get you down if needs be…"

Elladan knew immediately that his twin had just said the worst thing possible. Elrohir seemed to realize it as well. His mouth snapped shut, but it was too late. The traitorous words flew up through the air, and not even human hearing could have failed to catch them.

If anything, the scowl on Aragorn's face increased ten fold. With great care, the young ranger slowly stood to his feet on the branch. His right hand clutched at the trunk for support.

"You can not do this!" Elladan ground out. "Be reasonable!"

"I have done it once before," Aragorn shot down at the furious elf.

"Yes! And do you recall what happened!" Elrohir very nearly snarled, incensed at himself for his slip of tongue.

"That was different," The young man started to release the trunk and swiftly grabbed it again as he very nearly over balanced. "This time there are no wargs or orcs." A brief smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at his brothers. "Or at least no wargs."

"You were thirteen," Elladan bellowed, his face turning a shade of red very unbefitting an elven warrior. "And I do not know if you remember very well, but you fell because the branch broke under your weight then! You may not have noticed, but you are significantly heavier now!"

Ignoring the outraged expression on the elven faces, Estel turned his head and looked down the branch. There, at the very end, where it was thin and whippy, hung a long, slender rope.

Elladan had been the first to descend from the tree. Running along the very limb Aragorn stood on, he had flung the rope up into the higher branches and gracefully swung out of the tree, sliding to the ground. Elrohir had been quick to take up the challenge and had followed close behind his twin, leaving Aragorn.

They assumed he would not try.

The dark haired man focused on the rope. Drawing in a deep breath, he released the trunk and sprinted towards it. For a human, his balance was superb.

But unfortunately, even very good balance could not make up for the fact that he was heavier than his elven brothers.

There was a crack that seemed to echo in the suddenly still air. Aragorn felt the branch beneath his feet give, and leapt towards the rope. His hand closed around it as the limb dropped from beneath his feet. He fell towards the ground with a yelp.

The slender, elven rope wizzed through his fingers and he tightened his grip on it desperately. Searing pain almost instantly enveloped his hand. It felt like his palm was on fire…but he did not dare let go.

Despite all his efforts, he could not bring himself to a halt. Fortunately, he had slowed his plunge enough so that when he made contact with the ground, it merely bruised him badly and knocked all the wind from his lungs. Lying flat on his back, he gasped painfully.

"Estel!" Two dark heads appeared in front of his face, their expressions twisted in anxiety. His brothers were bending over him; helping him into a sitting position. Smiling weakly, he shot them a triumphant look.

"I made it."

0-0-0-0

"And just how do you expect to explain that to _Ada_?" Elladan jabbed a finger at his little brother's bleeding palm.

Aragorn ignored the irate elf, keeping his dark head bent over the wound, intent on bandaging his hand. The young man winced, not only at the sharp pain, but at the thought of admitting to his father what he had done.

Friction from the rope had ripped away patches of his skin. Though reluctant to aknowledge it, he knew his brother had a valid point. This was not something he would be able to hide from the sharp eyed Lord of Rivendell. Sooner or later, the dark haired elf would notice there was a bandage wound around his youngest's palm, and he would want to know the reason why.

Aragorn's mind whirled with possible excuses as he tied off the end of the bandage.

He had tripped and fallen on a rock.

He had accidently cut himself on his own sword.

Elladan had tried to carry out his long standing threat to skin him alive.

The young ranger quickly suppressed a snort of laughter as he imagined Elladan's expression if he told their father _that_. Though he would enjoy it, he doubted his elder brother would find it equally humorous.

"Well?" Elrond's first born glared at the human. Both he and his twin were eyeing their younger brother with expresssions that suggested he had just rolled in something smelly.

Aragorn sighed. "I do not know," he snapped peevishly. "But that is _my_ business, not _yours_!" Shocked at his own temper, the ranger clamped his lips together tightly. Developing a sudden and keen interest in boot leather, he turned his silver eyes downwards and glared at his toes, as if they were responsible for his current prediciment. When the said appendages refused to apologize, he sighed again. He didn't want to look up. He knew by the silence that his brothers were hurt by his words, and in truth, he felt slightly ashamed. The raven haired elves had always been unfailingly kind to him. They could not have loved him more if he had been born into their family.

Unfortunately, his current resentment kept him from admitting as much to himself. He was tired. Tired of being treated like a child who was trying to act like an adult! Worse yet, an amusing child. Oh how he hated the affectionate, indulgent smiles that passed between the elves of his home. When would they realize that he was a grown man amongst his own people?

_Never_, he answered himself bitterly. Elladan and Elrohir did their best, but at times even they had the tendency to see him as an infant.

Finally, he turned his face upwards. A wince crossed his features as he saw his brothers' hurt expressions. He did not want to cause them pain. It was the last thing he would willingly do! "I am grown," he said softly. "I can handle things myself now." Without another word, he rose from his sitting position and started towards home. He could not hear the elves walking behind them, but he knew they were there.

Deeply immeresed in his own thoughts, Aragorn was shocked to feel a hand descend on his shoulder. Elrohir halted the ranger, the elf's face tense. A question started to form on the young man's lips, but he bit it back as his brother shushed him.

Aragorn looked from one twin to the other, a growing feeling of uneasiness pulling at the corners of his mind. Both elves were completely still, a look of intense concentration on their fair features. They were listening for something, though what he could not hazard a guess.

Elladan's mouth tightened into a grim line. "Come on," he hissed. With eerie grace, the elf all but flitted away, his light feet never making a sound. Even as Aragorn watched, the young lord seemed to blend in with his surroundings as he moved toward the sound only elven ears could catch.

The ranger sighed, wishing more than ever he had been gifted with more elvish talents than he had. True, his eyesight and hearing were much sharper than an ordinary man. Likewise, he healed faster and could move more softly.

Unfortunately, even his level of hearing and sight would pass for nearly deaf and blind amidst the elves of Rivendell, and what he called moving softly, they termed 'crashing about like an overweight oliphaunt.'

The human groaned softly and followed after his brother.

As they made their way throught the woods, even Aragorn began to hear what had alarmed his brothers.

The clash of steel on steel.

The young ranger exchanged a dark look with Elrohir. This was not good. None of them had foreseen being involved in a battle so close to their home. They were armed, but lightly. Aragorn carried a dagger, Elrohir had his bow. Only Elladan had brought a sword.

There was movement through the trees ahead. Elladan halted and held up a hand, motioning for his brothers to stop. The dark haired elf slipped forward himself, disappearing within the undergrowth of the forest.

Aragorn's fingers tapped impatiently against his dagger's handle, eager to move forward once more. The sounds of fighting were louder now, and he could hear voices as well. Men's voices.

With a wry smile, Elrohir caught the ranger's hand, trapping the nervous fingers. "If your wish was to drive me insane," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "You have succeded. You may stop now."

"Twas not I who drove you," Aragorn mouthed back. "And besides, it was not such a long trip as to require a drive. You had only to inch to the left."

The dark haired elf looked as though he would very much liked to have smacked his younger brother, but remembered just in time that they were not supposed to be making any noise.

Elladan rejoined them, seeming to appear almost out of thin air. A bright flush of anger stained his fair face, and his hand was clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword. "There is a group of four men," he said in a low voice. "They are being attacked by a band of ruffians. They seem to have fought well, but one has become injured. If we do not assist them, they will soon be overrun."

Elrohir swiftly slid his bow from his shoulder and drew an arrow. His grey eyes were grim as he met his twin's gaze. "How many?"

"Twenty, I believe. Perhaps a little less."

Aragorn looked from Elladan to Elrohir and winced. They were furious. He almost felt sorry for the ruffians. "Maybe we should give them a chance to surrender."

"Maybe," Elladan conceded.

"But not likely," Elrohir smiled tightly. He was already setting his arrow so as to be prepared.

Elladan swiftly drew his sword and jerked his head at Aragorn, motioning for the ranger to follow him. Without looking to make sure his younger brother had obeyed, the dark haired elf started to make his way back towards the fray.

This was, perhaps, very fortunate for the young ranger. The moment his right hand closed firmly about the handle of his dagger, he nearly cursed aloud. A bright flash of pain seared across his wounded palm. Had the elf seen the human's face, he would have demanded to know what was wrong, and very likely forbidden Aragorn to take part in the fight once he recalled his brother's injury.

Without a second thought, Aragorn switched the weapon to his left hand. He knew he would never be able to keep a firm grip on the thing with his wounded palm. True, he was not as adept as Legolas when it came to fighting with either hand, but he was not hopeless either.

In front of him, Elladan broke into a trot, then a run. His sword raised high, Elrond's firstborn leapt from the cover of the trees and threw himself into the fight. Aragorn swiftly raced in behind him, catching up just in time to block a blow aimed at his elder brother's neck. With a snarl, the human raider focused his attention on the young man.

The ranger ground his teeth together hard as he clenched his fingers more tightly around his dagger. The blow had shaken his arm badly. He had not fought left handed for a very long time. Ignoring the rules of fair combat, Aragorn kicked out viciously, smashing his opponent's knee before the man could strike again. The raider howled and fell to the forest floor.

A murmur swept through the bandits as they realized they were being attacked. Almost immediately, they swung away from their original targets, clumping around Aragorn and Elladan.

Whizzz…

Aragorn gasped as an arrow flew by his face. It struck a raider in the chest and the man fell with a gurgle of surprise.

Whizz…whizz…

More arrows whistled through the air. Unarmed, save for his bow, Elrohir stood at the edge of the clearing, firing with deadly accuracy. By now, the raiders were beginning to show fear. Ordinarily, they would not have been bothered by the arrival of only three others, but they did not account for the warrior skill of the elves.

Aragorn grimly struck out at a large, blond brute. The man laughed crudely and turned the clumsy blow aside easily. With a savage smile, the raider swung towards the dark haired ranger, making Aragorn jump back. The dagger suddenly felt woefully inadequate in his hands as he gazed at the small giant coming toward him. Steeling himself, the young man lunged forward.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir frowned as he released another arrow. Elladan was fighting well, though he was surrounded. But Estel…he could not understand what he was seeing before him. Though the young human had fared well so far, it was more by luck than any skill.

One of Elrohir's arrows picked off a man sneaking up behind his younger brother.

Confusion wrinkled the dark haired elf's brow. He could not make any sense of it. Aragorn fought well. Not like an elf of course, but he had his own style that conveyed a sense of grace and excellent training. At least, usually he did. Right now, his movements were clumsy. When he swung with his dagger he looked off balance.

And since when was Estel left handed…?

With a cry of shock, Elrohir threw his bow to the ground and plunged into the thick press of men. The elf cursed himself soundly as he roughly thrust his way through to his younger brother's side. Why had he not remembered! Of course Estel was not using his right hand! He was wounded for the love of the Valar!

The young ranger yelped in astonishment as he felt a strong hand close around his collar, jerking him back out of the blond brute's swing in the nick of time. Silver eyes grew wide as a fist flashed over his shoulder, planting itself in the raider's ugly face.

Kicking and punching, Elrohir all but dragged his little brother back to the outskirts of the fray.

"Here," the elf plucked his bow from the ground and thrust it into Estel's hands. "Give me that dagger. You stay out here where it's safe…"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn was torn between feeling grateful and extremely annoyed. He knew he had not been fighting well. But to be dragged away like an infant…! A bright flush of embarrasment flooded his face as he stumbled after Elrohir. Upon reaching the edge of the trees, Elrohir bent and retrieved his bow. The dark haired elf pushed the weapon towards Aragorn. "Here." Without thinking, the young ranger's fingers closed over the smooth wood. He opened his mouth to protest, but Elrohir cut him off.

"Give me that dagger. You stay out here where it's safe…" The twin was already reaching out to take Aragorn's knife as he spoke.

Hot frustration exploded somewhere within the young human's skull. He was being treated like a small child! Stay out where it's safe, Estel, we wouldn't want you to get hurt. Leave the dangerous stuff to the big elves…With a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a half choked sob, he jerked his blade away from Elrohir.

Unfortunately, the elf had already closed his long fingers around the handle, and his grip was not easily broken. Gray eyes grew wide at Aragorn's attempt to keep his weapon. "Estel! What are you doing!" He yanked the steel blade back towards himself.

"It's mine!" Aragorn snarled back, sounding like the petulant child he did not want to be treated as. "Get off!"

Elrohir's eyes were almost bulging out of his skull by now. What had gotten into the human…? "Estel, be reasonable. If I am to go fight I need a weapon…"

"You have one! Take up your bow and let me fight on my own!"

Elrohir's composure frayed slightly at the edges, but he fought to maintain his calm. "Estel…"

"WOULD SOMEONE," Elladan bellowed from the middle of the battle. "GET OUT HERE AND HELP ME!"

"Give me the knife, Estel," Elrohir gritted through his teeth, feeling the thin threads of his patience fracture one by one… "You are wounded. You cannot wield the dagger as easily as normal. You will only succeed in getting yourself hurt if you go out there!"

It was true. Aragorn knew it. Resentment refused to allow him to admit it. "The blade is mine," he snapped once more, trying to pull it from Elrohir's fingers.

That did it. Elrohir's patience shattered so sharply he was surprised his brother could not hear it.

"GIVE ME THE KNIFE!" he roared, veins swelling dangerously in his neck.

Aragorn was so shocked he immediately released his hold. With one final dirty look at his little brother, the dark haired elf bounded back into the battle and fought his way to his twin's side.

"It's about time!" Elladan hissed nastily, blocking a blow meant for his head.

Elrohir only growled in response and clubbed one of the raiders with the dagger hilt.

Whizzz…

An arrow flew by the younger twin's ear and struck a bandit squarely in the chest.

Whizzz…

Another whistled by Elrohir's shoulder to find its' mark in a man's midriff.

"Them!" Elrohir howled at his little brother. "Shoot at THEM! Not us! THEM!"

This time an arrow came so close to the dark haired elf's head he felt it stir his hair as it passed by. Spinning, he saw it embed itself in the throat of a raider that had been sneaking up on him. Unfortunately, Elrohir was not entirely sure whether Estel had been aiming for the man, or had been trying to hit _him_ and missed. Judging by the young human's expression, it could have been either. He quickly decided that he would rather not know which it was.

The raiders were falling back before the elves' prowess, their brutish faces starting to pale with fear. How could only three beings be so deadly? Not to mention their original targets, the four men.

One of the raiders bellowed harshly and broke for the woods. As if on cue, the others swiftly followed. Elrohir could see his twin's hesitation. Elladan longed to follow them and finish what had been started on their father's land. However, the humans they had rescued were wounded.

The younger twin placed a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. Gentle, yet restraining. Elladan started at the touch. He had become so immersed in the battle he had ceased to become aware of anything else around him. Elrohir frowned slightly. It had been long since Elladan had given into the blood lust so completely…

Gray eyes turned on him, and they were sharp and clear in the fair face. A regretful grin tugged at the corners of the young elf lord's lips as he gazed at his brother's worried expression. "Another time," he said softly.

"Aye," Elrohir agreed, a grin of his own spreading in his relief. "There will be time to hunt another day."

The snapping of a twig behind them caused both elves to whirl….

…Only to see their younger brother scowling at the pair of them, Elrohir's bow held at arm length as though it would contaminate him should he hold it closer to his body. "Here," he thrust the weapon at the younger twin, seizing his dagger at the same time. "I'll take that, thank you." His voice was brittle. Harsh. Without waiting for either of the elves to respond, he turned on his heel and strode toward the group of men they had rescued.

Elrohir grimaced. Why, oh why could he not have been blessed with one sibling, _just one,_ that would listen to sense? Had the Valar thought his life would be too dull and uneventful if he were not thwarted by a young, petulant ranger when he was only looking out for the human's best interest! The dark haired elf cast a very annoyed look at the sky above his head. _I realize that my kind started the kinslaying, but to be fair I was not even born at the time…_

Elladan exchanged a wry smile with his twin. "Ah, the rewards of seeing how our care is so appreciated." His face wrinkled in a most un-elf lord-like manner. "He will not forgive you for months, you realize."

"Better to be unforgiven than to drag a wounded Estel back to _Ada._"

"True." Elrond's eldest watched their younger brother as he knelt by one of the wounded men. "And had I noticed, I would have dragged him from the battle myself…" his voice trailed off as a stricken expression passed over his face. "He could have been seriously hurt…"

"Do not," Elrohir said flatly, "blame yourself. You were occupied with other things at the moment. And how could you have expected him to do something so foolish?"

0-0-0-0

Though he made no outward sign he had heard his brother's words, Estel felt his resentment boil within him. His hands trembled slightly as they cut away the injured man's tunic, but he quickly stilled them. A healer could not have unstable fingers.

The man grinned in a strained way at the young ranger, sweat beading his forehead. Dark hair was pulled back from his face, held out of the way with a leather thong. His features were craggy, looking as though they had been hewn rather roughly from a rock. Stubble coated his cheeks with a faint shadow. Though his skin looked as though it was usually tanned from a life spent mostly outdoors, at the moment it was rather pale with pain. Yet he still fought to keep from showing his discomfort. "It's not serious," He managed to force between his lips as Aragorn peeled the tunic away from his shoulder.

"No…" the ranger murmured distractedly. "Not very serious. Just painful I imagine." He offered a quick grin and was pleased to see the man grimace and nod. "I don't suppose you happen to have any tools for healing among you..?" Aragorn glanced at the man's companions that were grouped around him anxiously. They were shaking their heads.

"Fraid not," the dark haired man grunted. "We're not healers ourselves."

Aragorn narrowed his silver eyes in thought. His eyebrows drew together as he contemplated what should be done. Normally, it would not be a problem for him to attend to the man's wounds where they were. Unfortunately, he did not have any of his tools with him. Just as he and his brothers had not foreseen being involved in a battle, he had not realized that he would have wounded to deal with. "What is your name?"

"Halith," the dark haired man ground through clenched teeth.

"Well, Halith," Aragorn said as he applied pressure to the wound. "You're very fortunate. An inch or so to the left, and a little deeper you would have been peirced through the heart. What are you doing out here? Tis a far way to come for hunting…"

It was a delicate probe. Aragorn wished to know more of the men before he flippantly invited them to the elven refuge of Imladris. He knew already that his elder brothers would not relish taking the humans back to their home, but if they suspected that there was something amiss with the men…

"The game we hunt is far roaming," one of Halith's companions interjected. "And we underestimated it. When we caught up, it was we who became the hunted."

A light of understanding flickered in the young ranger's silver eyes. "You came after the men we rescued you from just now."

"Yes," Halith nodded. "They are part of a large band that had been harrassing our village, and we hoped to put a stop to them. As my friend said though, we did not realize just how many were among them."

Aragorn turned his attention away from his patient long enough to call over his shoulder. "We will have to take them with us. I do not have what I require here."

As the young man's face swung back towards Halith, he missed the look that passed between his brothers. Open skeptiscism glittered in their grey eyes.

Halith's dark eyes took in the elves' expressions. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Nay, sir," he addressed himself to Aragorn, keeping his voice soft. "We need not take your time, nor inconvenience you further."

One of his companions cast him a surprised glance. "But Halith…"

"I said," he raised his voice sharply, "we do not need to inconvenience these fine men further."

Aragorn shook his head obstinately. " Do not be ridiculous. You have already said you have no healers among you, and your wound needs to be dressed before you try to travel back to your town. It is no burden to us," the ranger turned to the elf twins. "Is that not right, _gwenyr nin_?"

Elladan cursed inwardly as the humans turned hopeful eyes towards him and Elrohir. What was he to say after a statement like that? It would be unthinkable to turn injured men away…and yet…

The look on Elrohir's face told him he was not alone in his reservations. There was something about these humans that he just did not trust. Unfortunately, until he had proof that there was malicious will in the small band, he could not find it in him to refuse sanctuary to a wounded man. "Of course," he finally answered, his voice cool, without a hint of the suspiscion that bubbled within him. "We would be honored to attend you."

"There," Aragorn said cheerfully. "That's settled. Here, you two," he beckoned to Halith's friends. "help me get him up on his feet."

The two men did as they were bidden, and soon, the whole party was on their way. Aragorn strode in front with the small band, leading, and keeping an eye on his patient at the same time. Elladan and Elrohir kept to the back, their faces grim.

Aragorn noticed his brothers' dour expressions, and they gave him a pang of uneasiness, but the ranger pushed it aside.

"You fought well, young man," Halith grinned tightly, his breathing coming harshly. He could not walk very well on his own, and his two friends took most of his weight on their own broad shoulders. Unfortunately, this also put a good deal of strain on his injury. Despite his obvious pain, the man kept up a steady stream of conversation. "I've seen much older warriors fare worse against so many…and they fighting with their proper hand!"

Aragorn flushed at the praise, but could not help feeling a small glow of satisfaction. Finally, someone who did not view him as a bumbling child…

----------

Elrohir watched the man, Halith, conversing with Estel. The more the man talked, the more the elf's dark eyebrows crawled forward into a frown. He could not help it. There was…something…about this human he did not like.

Halith made a comment and Estel blushed, but Elrohir could see the pleased grin creaping over his little brother's features. The younger twin narrowed his grey eyes slightly.

Focused on the injured man, the young elf lord was not prepared for the wave of dark foreboding that rolled over him. He gasped, his footsteps faltering, eyes wide with horror. A strong hand caught his elbow as he nearly tripped and fell.

As quickly as it had come, it was gone, leaving Elrohir deeply shaken. Estel and the humans walked on. They had not noticed any change. Only Elladan had seen his twin stumble. It was his hand that caught his brother. The elder twin's face was twisted with worry.

Elrohir shuddered. He could not even tell what it was that he dreaded. Though a small portion of his father's gift of foresight had been endowed to him, and his siblings, he had never been able to see what the future held. Most of the time, he was quite happy to escape the knowledge of what was to come. He saw what a burden it was to his father, and he did not wish to take such a load on himself.

At this moment, however, he would have given anything to know what dark peril walked in the guise of this human coming towards their home. His grey eyes met the identical gaze of his twin, and he shook his head in answer to the questioning look he saw there. He could not say what it was that worried him so deeply.

He didn't know himself.

0-0-0-0

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

_Gwenyr nin-My brothers_

0-0-0-0


	2. Premonitions

The dark haired elf leaned against his balcony railing. A soft breeze came with the setting of the sun, and it ruffled through his raven strands. Grey eyes surveyed the valley with the pretense of calm.

He should have been quite serene. Imladris was beautiful in the evening. The river Bruinen could be heard from where he stood, flowing peacefully along. Even he himself _looked_ as though he was thouroughly enjoying the brilliant sunset.

"Do you think they will appear if you stare at the trees hard enough, _mellon nin_?"

Elrond did not even blink. He had heard the elf approach. And he knew the voice well. "Yes."

With a grin, Elrond's golden haired seneschal leaned against the balcony railing beside his lord. Glorfindel had told Elrond more than once that he was simply borrowing trouble. So the twins and Estel were late in returning. They were within the borders of Rivendell! Nothing _too_ dreadful could have befallen them between the time they had set out that morning and now.

Elrond had only gazed at the blond elf in amazement, as if wondering how stupid a member of the _Eldar_ could truly be.

"They will have gotten into some kind of trouble," the dark haired elf muttered. "I do not know what it will be, but trust me. When they come back, at least one of them will be injured. Wether it be wargs, or orcs, or…" Elrond broke off, realizing that Glorfindel was still grinning widely. "You are laughing at me."

The elf's blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Of course not, _hir nin_."

Before Elrond could respond to his seneschal's blatant falsehood, a cry from the courtyard below reached his keen ears. Immediately, the elf lord turned his gray eyes downwards.

Elladan stood underneath his father's balcony, his fair face grim. Elrond felt a pang of dread. What had happened to make his eldest look so stern? "_Ion nin_! _Man na den_?"

The young elf lord only shook his head. "You need to come down, _Ada_. I think there is something you should see."

Elrond turned from the railing and quickly strode through his chamber and out into the hall, Glorfindel at his side. The golden haired balrog slayer had lost some of his merriment in response to hearing Elladan's hard tone of voice. The Lord of Imladris could not help shooting a glance at his friend that very clearly said, 'I told you so.' "They will be hurt," he muttered under his breath, worry making him angry. "at least one of them will be. Most likely Estel. Glorfindel, could you tell the healers on duty…?"

"_Avo osto,_" the blond elf clapped a hand on Elrond's shoulder reassuringly. "I will make sure they are prepared for whatever new mischief has befallen your sons." Though his tone was light, both knew he spoke in complete sincerity.

Elrond smiled tightly. "_Hannon le, mellon nin._" Moving swiftly, he parted company with Glorfindel and made his way to the stairs. The whisper of his robes as he descended the smooth stone steps was the only sound he could hear. It pounded against his eardrums as if telling him to go faster. Therefore, by the time the elf lord reached the door, he was nearly running.

Elrond wrenched the portal open…

Only to be confronted with a very odd scene.

Elladan and Elrohir stood stiffly to one side of the courtyard, their faces radiating cool dissaproval. Their gray eyes were fastened on a group of five men. Humans. Three were standing, looking rather uncomfortable in their surroundings. One was seated with his back against a nearby barrel, and the fifth was bent over him. Where was Estel?

The fifth man straightened up, and Elrond breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised his son. The boy did not seem to be sporting any major injuries, but the elf lord's keen eyes did not fail to detect the bandage wound around Estel's hand. Having ascertained that his youngest was not in any immediate danger, Elrond directed his attention to the group of humans that had accompanied his sons.

Four, there were. All seemed to be of middle age, or younger. Their clothing was worn, and simple, like any villager in the many small hamlets that lay within a day's march of Rivendell. Dark faces and arms bespoke of a life spent mostly outdoors. Elrond's gray eyes passed over the three who were standing quickly, then came to rest on the man who was seated. For some reason, a flicker of unease stirred within his mind. There was something about this human that he did not like.

Perhaps it was the shrewd look in the man's dark eyes…or the way said eyes darted around the courtyard. Not frantically, oh no. Those eyes were drinking in the details and memorizing everything they touched. Perhaps it was the way that shrewd gaze rested on Estel…

As if warned by some unknown instinct, the man suddenly seemed to realize he was being watched. The calculating look vanished so quickly that Elrond wondered for a moment if he had imagined it. In its place, an expression of brave stoicism in the face of pain held sway.

The dark haired elf was not fooled. He sent a sharp look at the twins. Surely they realized that something was wrong with this man? Why had they brought him to Imladris?

0-0-0-0

Aragorn noticed the way his father's gaze swept over the humans, lingering on Halith. He also saw the stern look of dissaproval Elrond sent towards Elladan and Elrohir.

For some reason, the young ranger felt his ire bubble once more. Did even his own father think him too infantile to possibly have any responsibility with the arrival of these men?

"_Ada_," he said quietly, but there was a bite hidden beneath his soft tone. "We came upon these men as we were traveling home. They were being attacked by a much larger group, and we came to their assistance. Unfortunately, Halith had already been wounded." Aragorn motioned briefly to the dark haired man. "I did not have what I needed to treat him, so I thought it best we bring him back here."

The ranger saw his father frown briefly, but the elf quickly turned his scowl into an expression of cool dignity. "Of course." Again, the gray eyes flickered over Halith and his companions. "Elladan, Elrohir, please escort this man to the healing wing, and take the rest of our _guests_ to the spare chambers."

Aragorn did not miss the dark haired elf lord's stress on the word, 'guests.' His face flushed slightly as he shot an apologetic glance at Halith. The older man merely smiled ruefully, as if used to receiving such chilly welcomes. With cheeks still burning, Aragorn helped Halith's companions raise him to his feet.

"Don't fret on our behalf," the injured man murmured into the ranger's ear. "I can't expect everyone to stretch out a lot of hospitality when they've only just caught sight of us. After all, we look a little disreputable."

"Do not be foolish," Aragorn snorted. "You look nothing of the sort."

"Ah, but not everyone has your discerning eye," Halith grinned and winked knowingly as his friends took his weight on their own shoulders. Elladan stepped forward, his fair face exceedingly grim as he led the small party into the halls of the last homely house. Elrohir fell in behind the humans, his own features mirroring his twin's to such a great degree that for a moment, Aragorn could not tell the two apart.

"Estel."

At the sound of the gentle voice, the young man sighed, and tore his silver eyes away from the departing group. "Yes, _Ada_?"

Elrond's arms were folded tightly across his chest, his dark brows drawn forward so far they formed a V. "Firstly, what did you do to your hand?"

Aragorn winced. He should have known there was no way his father would fail to see the crude dressing wrapped around his palm. Half of his mind debated telling the elf that he had been wounded in combat…but the other half set up such a raucous laugh he decided against it. He had never been able to hide anything from his father, and besides, one of the twins would most likely make sure that Elrond knew the entire tale and it would be wise to ensure that the two tales matched.

"I simply followed Elladan and Elrohir down from a tree," he said innocently. "I…slipped…a little and scraped some of the skin off…" Before he could finish, the dark haired elf had caught his right wrist and held it firmly as his long delicate fingers deftly unwound the dressing.

The bandage fell to the courtyard floor, revealing Aragorn's palm.

Elrond's eyebrows rose dramatically. "Some? You call _this_ some!"

Aragorn had to admit, his father had a valid point. He had tried to downplay his injury as much as possible, but in truth, he had taken nearly all of the skin off his hand, and it looked fairly ugly.

The gray eyes narrowed, fixing his son with a piercing look. "Exactly _how_ did you 'slip'?"

The young ranger sighed dismally. He knew when he was beaten. Without trying to sugar coat the story any more than he had already done, he related everything.

0-0-0-0

Elrond felt his eyes grow wide as his youngest recounted his tale. How could such an intelligent young man do something so abysmally foolish! "Estel…you should know better. I know you wish to do everything your elder brothers do, but you must understand that sometimes it is just not possible!" the dark haired elf lord nearly groaned as he looked at his son. The boy's head hung low, allowing his dark hair to fall forward and hide the scowl in his silver eyes.

Elrond knew the scowl was there. He had to bite back his own irritation. _Why_ could Estel not listen to reason? It was like trying to talk sense into a dwarf! The young human was so hardheadedly sure that he knew what was best he would not listen to anyone else. The elf sighed softly, gazing at the top of his child's head. Sometimes he wished that Estel would grow up and gain some of the wisdom that seemed so often lacking. But then, he also caught himself frequently enjoying the boy's youthful exuberance, something he knew would fade in time. '_But not yet.' _He reminded himself. For now, Estel was still very young and easily kept from harm. His eyes caught another glimpse of the ranger's wounded hand. Well, most harm anyway. He smiled slightly as the thought crossed his mind. "Go inside, Estel. I will be along to tend to that," he motioned towards Estel's wounded palm, "in just a moment."

The small, mildly indulgent smile on Elrond's face had not gone unnoticed . "Do not trouble yourself, _Ada_." Though the young ranger's words were polite, his tone was clipped. "I can tend to it myself." Without another look at his father, Estel turned on his heel and nearly fled into the last homely house.

Elrond could only look after him, his gray eyes concerned.

0-0-0-0

Elladan drew in a deep breath as he stared at the solid wood door before him. It was very thick. Incredibly thick. So thick that there was no way his knock could be heard by the room's occupant.

If he knocked, that was.

"I may be mistaken," Elrohir remarked dryly from behind his twin, "but I was under the impression that one had to turn the handle in order to enter the room."

"Quiet," Elladan growled back.

"However," Elrohir ignored his brother with practised ease, "if you are trying to shift it with the powers of your mind, do not let me stop you. I will, however, warn you that your mental facilities are somewhat limited…" the younger elf swiftly dodge the blow his brother sent in his direction.

Scowling at his twin, Elladan seized the brass handle. He could not turn it. For the love of the Valar, he did _not_ want to be here. Anything was better than enduring Estel's wounded looks and his speeches on how no one took him seriously enough. The dark haired elf had heard all of them before. And what could he say? 'Perhaps if you _acted _like an adult we would treat you as one' just did not seem all that comforting.

No, when he realized that Estel had not come down to dinner, he did not _want_ to track down the young man.

But the human was his brother, and something was obviously bothering the ranger.

With a deep, long suffering sigh, Elladan turned the knob and swung the heavy door open.

The room was very dim. Evening had fallen long ago, and the stars shone through Estel's open window. A single lamp burned fitfully on the bedside table. Its poor glow was barely enough to illuminate the stand on which it rested.

The elves needed no light to see their way. They boldly entered the room, silent as shadows, their dark hair melting into the gloom of the chamber. Their eyes glittered, cat-like, in the semi-darkness.

Estel stood by his window, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Silver light painted his unruly locks, turning them the same shade as his gleaming eyes. Though the human's pose was nonchalantly relaxed at first glance, his brothers could see the tension in his spine. In the rigid way he held his head.

A volcano of frustration was building inside the slender frame.

The twins exchanged glances. This was not going to be easy.

"We missed you at dinner, Estel," Elladan said lightly.

"And we wondered what dreadfully important business kept you from stuffing your face to satisfy the black hole you refer to as your stomach," Elrohir teased.

Estel snorted, but did not turn to face them as he replied. "I am surprised you did not send someone to fetch me. Perhaps I had gotten lost without another to hold my hand on the way to the dining hall." The words were filled with an acid that neither Elladan nor Elrohir could remember hearing from their little brother before.

The young ranger turned abruptly, facing the two elves. His face was taut and grim.

"What are you talking about?" Elladan was put on his defense by the biting tone of his younger brother's voice. "Do not be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous!" The word shot from Estel's mouth like an arrow. "let me tell you what is _ridiculous_ my brother. It is ridiculous that though I am twenty-two years of age, I am treated as a small child. It is ridiculous that neither you, nor anyone who dwells here seems to realize that I have grown up!"

"Estel…" Elrohir tried to interrupt, but was cut off.

"Be careful, Estel, do not do that, Estel, leave that to your brothers, Estel, they are older than you." The dark haired man started to pace before his window, arms still tightly folded over his chest. "_Ada_ does not even want me to leave tomorrow as I had originally planned because of _this_." Estel jerked his bandaged hand up in disgust. "He does not thing I will be able to 'defend myself' should the need arise."

"You are still planning to leave?" Elrohir asked sharply, his concern seeping through.

"Yes, Elrohir." Estel glared at the elf. "Legolas expects me to meet him at the edge of our valley. I will not leave him to worry."

"But, Estel," Elladan said, "Legolas will not arrive for at least three days. _Ada_ is right. Someone could attack you." He looked at Elrohir and saw the same worry etched on his twin's face. "Perhaps we should accompany you…"

The expression on Elrohir's face changed so dramatically, Elladan was taken by surprise. Then the realization of what he had just said hit the older twin like a troll's club. He spun back towards his little brother with an apology on his lips…but the moment he saw Estel's face, he knew that it was too late.

Silver eyes narrowed to slits in the young ranger's face. A nerve twitched in his temple. His lips quivered, as though he longed to hurl a scathing diatribe at his elder brother.

It took several minutes of appaling silence for the human to become calm enough to speak. When he did, his voice was soft and deadly, as poisonous as a rattlesnake's bite.

"Get out."

The twins exchanged pained glances and slowly turned towards the door, but Estel was not done speaking just yet.

"I do not need you to look after me or hold my hand any longer, Elladan. I am a man."

Elrohir merely shook his head and slid through the door. Elladan made as if to follow, but turned at the last moment. His gray eyes met Estel's silver ones and held the gaze steadily. "It takes more than years to make a man, Aragorn son of Arathorn. I hope in time, you will gain the wisdom to see that."

Before Estel could respond, Elladan silently followed after his twin and pulled the door shut behind him.

0-0-0-0

Dawn's bright rays sparkled over the valley of Imladris, coating the beauty of the elves with its own radience. Throughout the valley, the elves awoke and rose to go about their business, marveling at the wonder of nature's fine display.

One individual, however, was oblivious to the glory of the new morning.

Aragorn hoisted his pack onto his back with a grunt. He felt slightly guilty for leaving without saying goodbye to his family, but he did not want to face another conversation that turned into an argument. Besides, he would be back in a few days, or a week at the most with Legolas at his side.

A flicker of a smile passed over the ranger's face as he thought of his golden haired friend. Perhaps with the presence of Mirkwood's prince, things would smooth over somewhat. Aragorn almost laughed aloud at that thought. When did _anything_ go smoothly when he and Legolas were together? Pushing dark hair out of his eyes, he ran through a mental list of everything he would need on his short journey.

Satisfied that he was not leaving anything behind, (he would never hear the end of it from the twins if he had) the young man was about to depart, when a soft voice hailed him.

Surprised, Aragorn turned, only to be confronted by Halith, and his companions.

The human looked much better than he had yesterday. He walked toward the young ranger with a spring in his step, and if Aragorn hadn't seen the top of a bandage peeking out of Halith's shirt, he might have supposed that man had never been injured.

"Off again, are you?" Halith asked brightly. "That's lucky. I don't suppose you would be willing to show us the way out of your valley by any chance…? I don't think any of us were paying very close attention yesterday, and it would be a poor way to repay your kindness and hospitality by becoming lost on your land."

"Certainly," Aragorn readily agreed, happy for the company of those who did not look on him as much younger than themselves. "But do you think you are ready to travel?"

"Of course he is," A red haired man chuckled softly. "Nothing can keep Halith down for long."

The other men murmured agreement emphatically.

"Just wait a moment while we get our packs," Halith grinned, and he and those with him quickly departed.

Aragorn let his own pack slide from his shoulder as he sat down to wait. Perhaps this trip wouldn't be so boring after all…

0-0-0-0

Dark gray eyes peered through glass panes, watching with intense displeasure as Aragorn rose from the ground and started to depart with the group of humans. For a moment, Lord Elrond considered sending someone after his son, but discarded the idea almost immediately.

The dark haired elf sighed and pulled away from the window. He had spoken with the twins last night, and they had related their conversation with their younger brother. He did not want to drive his son away…and it was true that by human standards, Estel was an adult. However, he could not picture the same Estel that had run to him crying at two years of age as a fully grown being.

Elrond rubbed the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. He did not like those humans…and not knowing why bothered him almost more than the fact himself. It disturbed him that his youngest son was traveling with them. Again, he felt the urge to send someone after the ranger.

It would not do.

Elrond firmly sat down at his desk and busied himself with his work, trying to ignore the fatherly instinct that wanted to run after his son and cuddle him, as he had done when Estel was small. The boy would only be in their company for a day, at most. Then the humans would travel on to their village, and Estel would wait for Legolas.

He would see the young man again in a week at the most.

Somehow, a week had never before seemed so long.

0-0-0-0

Avo osto-do not fear 

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

_Hannon le, mellon nin- Thank you my friend._

_Ion nin! Man na den?-My son! What is it?_

_Hir nin-My lord._

0-0-0-0


	3. Tracking Estel

Midday sun poured over the woods of Imladris, coating the leaves in its golden hues. The small band of humans traveling through the elven lands barely noticed the passing of time, so intent were they on their progress.

Aragorn, in particular was not interested in the daylight's changing. His attention was captivated by the man that strode at his side. Halith had been a most pleasant traveling companion. The older man had many stories to share, but was more than willing to listen to anything the young ranger had to say.

The fact that Halith was keenly attentive to every detail Aragorn told of Imladris escaped the silvered eyed man. Eventually, Estel was doing all the talking, and the dark haired man only listened, his eyes intent and shrewd. He soon ceased to make any noise except to encourage his companion when it seemed the young man would stop.

Aragorn did not notice. Though he _had_ been purposely vague when the subject of his name had arisen. Strider, he said was what he preferred to be called, and the elder man had not pursued the subject, respecting his companions reasons for not wishing his name to be known. The novelty of speaking to one who addressed him as an equal was exhilirating for Aragorn. Halith seemed deeply impressed when Estel revealed that he was one of the rangers and traveled with them frequently.

"I have heard of the rangers…" An apologetic grin flashed in Aragorn's direction. "Not always good things, but at least impressive. Very good at tracking so the stories say." The smile widened, but the dark eyes remained untouched.

Aragorn blushed at the praise. However, it was true. Little did Halith know how much so. He himself had developed his skill to the point of being able to find his brothers. No one else could even come close to hunting elven warriors.

"Look, Halith," one of the men touched their leader's shoulder and pointed. "Tracks. The thieves must have come through here."

"Surely you cannot be thinking of hunting them once again?" Aragorn asked incredulously. "After what happened last time?

"Not as we did before, no." Halith knelt by the tracks his man had noticed. "I should like to trail them though. Perhaps they will lead us to their base. Once we know where they are coming from it would be easy to return to our village and come back with more men." His lined face creased into a scowl. "Unfortunately, none of us are what you would call superb trackers…probably why we failed to notice we were hunting a good score of men last time…"

Aragorn chewed his lip gently. He could help these men. Of course, he was supposed to meet Legolas…but then, the woodelf would not be at their rendezvous spot for at least three days. At the earliest. More often, the prince was late. Aragorn knew his friend had many good talents, but had long ago learned that when given an estimate on when Legolas would appear, it was best to tack on at least a day or two.

"I have some time before I must meet my friend," the young man offered softly. "I can help you for a while at least."

The men eagerly agreed and fell in behind the ranger as he set off on the trail they had discovered. With his back to the other humans, it was only natural that Aragorn did not notice the sly smile pulling at Halith's mouth.

---------

Six days later 

----------

Tap.

Glorfindel's eyes looked up briefly to discover the source of the noise, but seeing only Elrond's dark head bent over a pile of parchment, swiftly returned to the scroll he was reading.

Tap.

The balrog slayer frowned. There it was again.

Tap. Tap.

Annoyed, the golden haired elf set aside his parchment. How was he supposed to concentrate with that noise?

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Rising soundlessly to his feet, Glorfindel slowly began to circle the room, his ears pricked for that dratted noise. Elrond did not seem to notice either the sound, or his seneschel stalking about his study as though he were in the midst of a hunt.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptap…

Glorfindel ground his teeth together in frustration. What was making that noise! His supposed it could be a mouse trapped within the walls…

Taptaptaptaptaptaptap.

Perhaps a branch against the window.

Tapatapatapatapatapa…

Maybe the Valar had seen fit to curse Elrond's study with a deranged woodpecker! Nearing the end of his patience, Glorfindel suddenly caught sight of the source of his annoyance. With a cry, he leapt forward…

…And brought his hand crashing down on Elrond's long fingers, trapping them against the desk's dark wood.

The dark haired elf lord actually jumped, his grey eyes wide with surprise. Obviously, his attention had been elsewhere. _And one didn't have to possess foresight,_ Glorfindel thought darkly, _to know where._ It had been six days since Estel had left Rivendell, and Elrond had become more and more distracted with the passing of every hour. More than once Glorfindel had suggested he send the twins after the young ranger but each time the Lord of Imladris eyes grew dark and he would refuse. Something had happened. Glorfindel knew it. Elladan and Elrohir had words with Estel before he left and, the blond elf knew that their argument had somethingto do with Elrond now not allowing his elder sons to go after the younger.

Elrond's grey eyes went from his own hand, (still trapped under Glrofindel's) to his friend's face. "Is something wrong?" he finally asked, dark brows rasied.

"You have succeded." Glorfindel said blandly.

"What?"Elrond's voice was laced with confusion, and perhaps a suggestion that the reincarnated elf had taken permanent leave of his sanity.

"You have succeded," the seneschal repeated, grinning at his friend's bemused expression. "Obviously,"he elaborated, "your intent was to fray at the very edges of my nerves until you wore them completely away. I thought you would like to know you had succeded."

"Very amusing, I'm sure," Elrond said flatly, pulling his hand free as he spoke. As if traveling of its own volition, the slender appendage began to fiddle with the hem of the elf lord's long flowing sleeve.

"You are worried," Glorfindel stated flatly.

"I am not," Elrond snapped with unnecesary vehemence. The long fingers gave his sleeve an extra hard jerk. Even as he denied his worry, his grey eyes flew toward the large window. Glorfindel knew his friend well enough to realize that only his presence kept the dark haired elf lord from rising and peering out the glass to see if his son had arrived…

"It has not even been a week yet," Glorfindel reminded Elrond gently.

The grey eyes swiveled away from the window and fixed him with a look of such piercing intensity, that the golden haired elf wished he had not spoken. Elrond was impossible to speak with when he was worried about one of his children, almost more than normal with Estel. There was something very vulnerable about the human. Just the fact that he was mortal made him seem so much more likely to be injured.

With a sigh, Elrond looked away from his friend and turned his eyes toward his desk surface. The hand that had been tweaking at his sleeve began to twist one of the intricate braids of hair around its fingers.

"Legolas often arrives late," Glorfindel tried again. This time the only response he got was a low gutteral noise that sounded almost like a growl. If elf lords growled. A smile tugged at the corners of the blond elf lord's mouth. Perhaps it was something only a half elven elf lord could manage. "Do you remember the time when the Prince of Mirkwood did not appear until three weeks after his intended arrival date?"

"Glorfindel, this is not helping."

"I am just saying there is no need to be concerned."

"I would not be," Elrond looked up sharply. "Had Estel left with anyone other than that group of humans."

Glorfindel's teasing demeanor lessened somewhat. "They troubled you, didn't they?"

"Their leader troubled me." Elrond rose abruptly from his chair and strode toward the window. "There was something abut him…" before the elf lord could reach the glass panes, he was interrupted by a knock. "Enter."

The door opened to admit Elladan. The older twin's face was drawn, and clouded by the same worry that ate at his father. However, his message did not have anything to do with Estel. "_Ada_, there is a group of men just arrived at our gates. They have something very important to tell you."

0-0-0-0

Elrond was struck by an eerie sense of déjà vu as he paused in the doorway. Before him stood a group of humans, their clothing and air nearly identical to the men who had stood in their place only a week earlier. Elladan and Elrohir stood apart from the humans, their faces nearly as grim as they had been six days before.

The only major difference was that there was a lack of shrewd eyes darting around the courtyard. That, in and of itself made Elrond feel much more comfortable with his guests.

A man with light colored hair and a freckled face stepped forwards and bowed politely. "Thank you for receiving us, m'lord. My companions and I have been traveling for many days on the trail of raiders. They attacked our village a little over a week ago. Though we did manage to wound their leader, I am afraid they were succesful in their goal." The man's freckled nose wrinkled slightly. "There is not one home that has not had some valubles taken from it." Pale green eyes narrowed slightly. " Their path led into this valley, and we would like your permission to travel through."

Elrond felt his eyebrows raise slowly. Taking his time, the elf lord allowed his grey eyes to travel over the group. The men's faces were nearly as grim as his sons'. All were armed, and there had to be at least fifteen of them. "How many do you believe you are hunting?" They had wounded the leader…

The spokesman appeared confused at the questiong, but answered nonetheless. "Two dozen. Perhaps a little less."

A group of four attacked by twenty. The leader was wounded. Estel had left with them…

"Their leader." Elrond stepped forwards, his eyes fixed on the human before him. "What did he look like?" The elf's voice was taut. His gaze was practically burning a hole in the man's forehead.

Alarmed, the fair haired man looked as though he would very much like to step back, but didn't quite dare. "he was…of average height…dark hair…and strange eyes. I…I don't know exactly how to describe them…but I had the impression that he was taking everything in with those eyes."

Elrond felt as though his heart had exploded within his chest.

0-0-0-0

Legolas Thrandulion strode through the woods that marked the very edge of Rivendell's valley. The prince was not happy. He was late. Strider would kill him. A smile briefly curved the golden haired elf's lip at the thought of his friend's mock annoyance. Every time he came to visit, _something_ would happen. Bad weather, avalanches in the mountains, bandits…once, he had even been attacked by spiders before he had left the shadows of Mirkwood's trees. The bite he sustained had delayed him nearly three weeks. Aragorn had not been pleased.

At least this time he had a _very_ good excuse.

Stupid mountain goblins. One had not been so bad…but the entire hunting party had been tricky. However, he had escaped with minimal damage. His worst injury was a long cut down his arm, but he was fortunate. The wound was very shallow, and the little orc's blade had not been poisoned. A dangerous gleam in his eye made his smile look feral.

The goblin had not been as fortunate as the elf.

With a sigh of relief, Legolas stepped into the clearing where he was supposed to meet his friend.

There was no one there.

Legolas' blue eyes widened in shock. Had he actually managed to beat Aragorn to the rendezvous point? Shrugging, the elf sank to the ground and settled his back against a tree. A grin tugged at his features. He could not remember the last time it had not been him who was late. However, even as that thought crossed his mind, he felt a brief pang of worry. What could be keeping that reckless young human? As quickly as it had come, he brushed the unease aside. This spot was less than a day out of Imladris, surely nothing _to _dreadful could have befallen the ranger, even with his infamous bad luck. A smile re-emerged on the prince's fair face as he thought of how surprised his friend would be that he had finally managed to arrive before him. He would never let Strider hear the end of this.

Stretching his lithe body, the prince placed his arms behind his golden head and prepared to wait…

0-0-0-0

"_Ada_, _saes!_"

Elladan stared at his father, horrorstruck. He could not believe what he had just heard come from the elder elf's lips. He and his twin stood in their father's study. Both too agitated to sit, they paced in front of the desk like young lions. Elrond was seated, his eyes dark. Worry hung over his slender frame like a black cloak. The twins could see it plainly.

"I can not believe you will not let us go after him!" Elladan slashed his hand through the air as if to underline his words.

Elrohir forced himself to stand still, and lean against the doorpost. "_Ada_, we could leave tonight and be at the rendezvous point before morning."

"No."

The word was so calm, yet so forceful it brought even Elladan to a halt. For a short time. Elrond forced his fingers to stop playing with the hem of his robes, glad that they were hidden beneath the edge of the desk. For the sake of his reckless sons, Elladan in particular, he had to appear calm. "Estel will wait for Legolas, and he will return with him. It is not unnatural for Legolas to be one or even three weeks late, as we all know." The elf lord stood slowly. "Remember the argument you had with your brother before he left. Do you really think he will appreciate your coming after him?"

Without another word, Elrond departed, the soft sound of his long robes against the stones unnaturally loud in the room's stillness.

Many minutes passed before the dark haired twins sought to break the silence stretching between them.

Elladan merely resumed pacing. His dark brows drew together over stormy eyes. Elrohir could see that frustration that was building up in the elder twin's slender frame. "Dan…"

"Ro, we could find him!" The words seemed to explode from Elldan's mouth. "We could bring him back and make sure that he was safe!"

"But we have no proof that anything is wrong, Dan. He will wait for Legolas as he planned to. There would be no reason for the humans to attack him. He has no valubles. Nothing that they could desire. It would not make sense for them to harm him, especially since they know he is under the elves' protection!" Elrohir drew in a deep breath as he watched his twin stride across the floor. Elladan's dark braids flew out behind him as he spun sharply, pacing back and forth. There was a gleam in the depths of the young elf lord's eyes that Elrohir knew very well. With a groan, the younger twin reluctantly gave in to what he knew would be inevitable. "We wait until the day after tomorrow, Dan. If Legolas and Estel have not arrived by then, we will go to find them."

Elladan stopped and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl plastered over his fair face. Obviously, he did not like the compromise.

"Be reasonable," Elrohir snapped, his patience coming to an end. Elladan was not the only one who was concerned for Estel. "Tomorrow is the very earliest we could expect Legolas to arrive."

Elladan opened his mouth to argue, changed his mind, snapped his lips tightly together and gave a single, short nod.

0-0-0-0

"Well done," Halith whispered excitedly. "We never would have found this on our own."

It was nearly dusk, and the small group of men were concealed in the thick forest undergrowth, looking out at a clearing that had obviously been used as campsite. A fire still smoldered in the ring of protective stones, and around its edges lay the remains of what had been someone's meal. Bones from some beast littered the ground, along with whatever meat that had not been eaten. Several crude tents had been erected. The bracken was flattened in places, showing where men had sat or slept.

Aragorn's eyebrows drew together in confusion. He could not put his finger on what was bothering him, but something about this layout seemed…aritficial. "I…do not like this."

Halith's eyebrows soared to the top of his forehead, and he glanced sideways sharply at the young man crouched beside him. Aragorn did not notice the look he received, so intent was he on the scene before him.

Concealing his surprise, the older human managed to keep his voice calm. "What do you mean?"

"I do not know." Aragorn slowly started to inch backwards, making as little noise as possible. "But I do not think we should linger."

Slowly, the group of men retreated, taking care to be as silent as they could. When they were a suitable distance away, Aragorn turned to Halith. "Here, I am afraid our paths must part. My friend will be waiting for me before I reach our meeting place."

Halith's face fell. "We could use a man like you. You are a good fighter, and an excellent tracker." The cunning eyes saw refusal in Aragorn's face, though the young man had not spoken. His tone became almost wheedling. "Please, accompany us. We can travel to our village and get help. Now that we know where their camp is we can return and take care of them once and for all! Our people will never have to fear them again…"

Aragorn chewed his lip uncertainly. The ranger stroked his chin, feeling the week's worth of stubble that had sprouted during the trip. They could use him…they could use a good fighter…but Legolas was waiting for him. "I cannot. My friend will worry if I am not there." Though if there were any way to assure Legolas he were all right, he would be sorely tempted to join Halith.

"Why not send a message?" Halith asked, obviously reluctant to let the young man depart. "One of my men could deliver it, and you could come with us." He smiled. "We'll need you to find our way here again." He could see Aragorn waver. "Strider, we could use your help."

A message. Yes, he could send a message. Legolas would understand. These people needed his help. Their village needed his help. Aragorn smiled. "Fine. That's what I will do."

The men greeted his descision enthusiastically, assuring the young ranger he had made the right choice. Halith, in particular, seemed extremely happy to have Strider along with them. And yet…

Somewhere deep down inside, Estel knew that he should go back. There had been a definite feeling of…wrongness that hung over the small camp they had discovered, and a little voice in the back of his mind kept pointing out that he was shirking his responsibility to his friend, and that his family would worry no matter what message he sent. But the feeling of being truly needed, not just put up with was strong and satisfying, and with a quick, internal shrug, the young ranger silenced his qualms and turned to follow the retreating men into the gathering gloom.

0-0-0-0

Ada, saes!- Father(daddy), please! 

0-0-0-0


	4. Caught!

Elrohir eyed the back of Elladan's head with a feeling very close to frustration. Aside from absolutely neccesary words, the elder twin had not spoken at all since they had made their plans to go after Estel.

Their father had not been pleased with them, going against his decision…and yet even as he had lectured them, Elrohir thought he had seen a gleam of relief in the dark grey eyes. This only strengthened his general feeling of unease. He had thought that once he and Elladan had begun their journey it might start to fade, but if anything, it had grown. A little voice was screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him that his little brother was in trouble. Estel needed them, whether he liked it or not.

More than once, Elrohir had tried to get the voice to shut up by reasoning with it. Honestly. Estel was only meeting Legolas. He was less than a full day's journey from the last homely house. For the love of the Valar, he was still within the borders of Imladris! How much trouble could he possibly get into?

There was a pause, but before Elrohir could congratulate himself on his logic, the little voice burst into a long peal of laughter. This did not improve the elven warrior's mood in the slightest.

Ignoring the voice as best as he could,(not an easy feat, now it was taunting him) Elrohir concentrated once more on the back of his brother's head. The dark haired elf could feel his uneasiness plucking at the corners of his mind once more as he realized how rigid Elladan's posture was. The young elf lord's every move seemed almost stiff. Tension was creeping along his shoulders like an almost tangible object.

Swatting branches out of his way, Elrohir bit his lip. This could not be a good thing.

Elladan crouched for a moment, his long fingers trailing gently over the forest floor. Keen gray eyes searched for the slightest indent, marking every possible bent twig or bruised leaf that might lead him in the path of his younger brother. It was not easy. The tracks had been made over a week ago. However, Elladan had been following after the human for the past twenty two years.

A frown pulled the elf's dark brows into a V. His fair face grew grim as he read what the tracks were telling him. "Elrohir."

Instantly, the younger twin moved to his brother's side. "_Man na den_?"

Elladan motioned to the faded tracks. "_Tiro._"

Elrohir looked nonplussed for a moment, then suddenly saw what made his twin's face become so stern. His own fair features fell. " _Dail hin celo forn._"

Elladan nodded. "Aye."

With a groan, Elrond's second born raked his hand back through his raven braids. "_Ai_! _Estel, man agorech_?"

"_Esten le trenaro nin._"

At the sound of the new voice, both twins spun, their hands moving to weapons. Elladan was already flying to his feet as his eyes darted back and forth, trying to discover the source of the elven voice.

Before either Noldo had more than grasped the hilt of their sword, a lithe, blond figure dropped cat-like from the tree branches above. Legolas scowled at his friends darkly, obviously not in the best of moods.

And it was apparent why, Elrohir thought as he relaxed somewhat. The prince was covered with a fine coat of road dust, his blond braids in dissarray. His tunic was missing a good three inches from the bottom, as was evident by the badly frayed edges. The torn piece was wrapped around Legolas' left forearm, but even this was not enough to disguise the crimson stain peeking from underneath the dark green material. All in all, Legolas looked tired, dirty, and very annoyed.

0-0-0-0

"Do not look so happy to see me," the silvan elf snapped, taking in the horrified expressions of both brothers. Yes, he knew he looked dreadful, but what did they expect after a long trip and a small tussle with mountain goblins? Not to mention the day and a half of waiting for their younger sibling…Legolas ground his teeth together as he thought of it. To tell the truth, he was incredibly worried, and not enjoying the feeling added to his already bad mood. Where was the human? What had kept him? Seeing the twins sparked off a little hope in the prince. Perhaps Aragorn had become injured and the twins were coming in his place. "I know I'm dishevled," he grunted, "and I have good reason. Where is your brother? Please tell me he did not forget…" A light smile touched Legolas' lips reluctantly as he thought of it. Oh, if Strider had forgotten he would never hear the end of it.

Elrohir and Elladan exchanged alarmed looks. Not what Legolas considered to be a good sign.

"Did he not meet you?" Elrohir asked, his fair face worried.

"Elrohir," Legolas made his voice light, though alarm bells were clashing horrendously in the back of his mind. "I am in no mood for jest. Where is Estel?"

"We do not know," Elladan looked grim. "He left Rivendell a week ago, in the company of a group of humans, and we have not seen him since."

Legolas felt as though an iron band had just squeezed itself tightly around his heart. "A week?" he heard his own voice asking incredulously. There was no possible way that it could have taken Aragorn more than a week to reach their meeting place.

Elladan motioned briefly to the tracks at their feet. "We believe that he stayed with the humans."

"Willingly?"

The twins exchanged another look. "There is no sign of a fight," Elrohir said quietly. The dark haired elf eyed his friend, wondering how the blond prince would take such news.

Legolas noticed both pairs of grey eyes surreptitiously trained on him and he fought to remain calm. The idea that Aragorn had simply wandered off without any kind of message was hard to accept. It made him feel…hurt. Pushing his bruised feelings to the side, the woodelf summoned his royal training and kept a cool face. "Which way did they go?"

0-0-0-0

A hard smile pulled at the corner's of Elladan's mouth at Legolas' words. He knew that their friend would be willing to do anything to help him and Elrohir hunt Estel down. "The tracks lead North…"

"Legolas," Elrohir's voice was stern. "You can not be seriously thinking of coming with us."

A pair of blue eyes and one of grey latched onto the younger twin, both wide with surprise. Legolas was first to recover. Carefully pulling strands of blond hair away from his ear, the archer cupped his hand around the pointed tip. "I'm sorry, Elrohir, but I know there is no way I could have heard what I thought I heard you say." Though his tone was teasing, the blue eyes were deadly serious. "I am _very_ seriously thinking of allowing _you_ to accompany _me_ as I go after my friend and beat him for letting me sit and twiddle my thumbs for a day." A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. "That is, if you do not slow me down too much."

Elladan chuckled, but Elrohir glowered. "Legolas, you are wounded…"

"I am scratched!"

"You are tired…"

"I can go for weeks without sleep."

"You smell like a dwarf…"

"I…WHAT!"

Elladan grinned wickedly at Mirkwood's prince, ignoring the scowl said prince fixed on him. "Common enough occurrence when one has traveled far without bathing."

"I smell nothing like one of those…cave dwellers," Legolas hissed through his teeth as he folded his arms over his chest. Seeing Elrohir still looked unconvinced, the blond elf made his tone more cajoling. "Ro, it is only a shallow cut. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"I do not think…"

"Elrohir," Elladan interjected somewhat impatiently, "We do not have time to take him back to _Ada_ and make sure he is locked in the healing wing." The elder twin shrugged slightly. "And you know that if we tell him to go home, he will only follow us. Besides, I am sure that the prince of Mirkwood can find some way to make himself useful on this trip."

Elrohir merely scowled darkly and turned away, following the tracks that they had discovered.

"Already I can add something to this hunting party," Legolas called after the retreating Noldo. "Before I met with you, I came upon fresher tracks than these, and I wondered what a group of humans would be doing wandering through Lord Elrond's valley. I believe they were made by the same men we now hunt."

Elrohir turned, a confused expression on his fair face. "What do you mean?"

"They took a detour," Elladan said slowly, catching on to what Legolas was telling them.

"And they returned to almost exactly the course they had been traveling beforehand,"the blond elf grinned. "Now I can take you to the fresher trail, and we cut days off our trip, bringing us that much closer to injuring Strider very badly."

0-0-0-0

Sleep tugged at the very edges of his mind. He was suspended in a dreamworld, halfway between waking and slipping deeper into slumber. Voices swirled around him, no longer foreign, but a mix that he had become familiar with. He knew these men.

It had been odd for the first few days, waking not amongst his elven brothers, nor even the soft footed rangers, but with humans. They were noisy. However hard they tried not to be, their voices, footsteps, and sometimes even their breathing sounded unnaturally loud to his sensitive hearing. On the one hand, it was an interesting experience. It was exciting to be doing something that he'd never done before.

Aragorn sighed softly into his bed roll. On the other hand, it made him miss what he was familiar with all the more. Not that he would admit as much to himself.

The waking world was slowly coalescing into a tangible form, forcing dreams back into the cobwebby regions of his subconscious. Aragorn pushed himself into a sitting position, swiping dark strands of hair out of his face, a scowl wrinkling his forehead. Silver eyes probed the edges of the camp intently as he fought to recall what had slipped through his mind as he slept. The clearing they had rested in for the night was shrouded in mist as thick as the fog that slipped over his thoughts.

The last vestiges of a dream tweaked at his mind, begging for his attention. It had been an alarming dream, and he could not remember why it had disturbed him so greatly. It had not even been all that fantastic. He just remembered voices. Voices talking about a message that would never be delivered…

"Awake, are you?" Halith emerged from the pea soup of fog with a suddeness that was startling. Aragorn nearly jumped. He had been so deep in thought he had not heard the older man approach.

With the appearance of Halith's weather beaten countenance, the dream slipped away, as if it had never been.

Aragorn grinned. "I've been awake for nearly the whole night listening to you snore."

Hearty guffaws from the mist let Halith know his men had heard the young ranger's quip. He scowled in mock anger and nudged Aragorn with the toe of his boot. "Very funny, I'm sure. Get up, lazybones. We're going through a village today. It'll give us a chance to pick up some supplies." Halith turned away as he spoke, but Aragorn still heard his next words with perfect clarity.

"By the way, Strider, Ian returned. You know, the one who delivered the message to your friend."

The message.

The ranger froze as he started to rise to his feet. For a few moments, he stared into the mist where Halith had disappeared. Could it be…? No. No, he was being ridiculous. It had only been a dream. Halith would have no reason to stop someone delivering a message to Legolas. For the love of the Valar, it had been his idea!

Shaking off his momentary feeling of unease, the dark haired man shrugged and started to pack away his things.

0-0-0-0

_Three days later._

0-0-0-0

Legolas eyed the two sons of Elrond from under lowered eyelids. He was leaning back against a tree, his body in a deceptively relaxed pose. Turmoil and tension flowed just beneath the surface of his calm features. It was all he could do not to jump up and run around their campsite, climb through all the trees in the forest, race through the night, something, _anything_ to burn off the energy that coursed through his slender frame like fire.

The fair prince suppressed a grimace with difficulty. If the twins saw him making faces, they would think he was in pain, and then they would hover over him like the mother hens the continually denied that they were. However, he knew it was not the slight discomfort from his arm that was bothering him.

The far greater pain was that of his friend's desertion. Legolas frowned inwardly even as he thought the word. He knew that he shouldn't think of Aragorn's actions as betrayal, but he couldn't help it! Eru! He felt…abandoned. It made him vulnerable, and that was never something Mirkwood's heir enjoyed. What's more, he was worried. Incredibly worried for his friend.

Elladan and Elrohir were anxious as well. They tried not to show it, but Ro in particular could not keep the worry from his face. Something was eating at both of them. Legolas knew that whatever it was, it was deeply personal. So much so, that they did not feel comfortable talking of it, even to him. He would not press them. (he was not, after all, suicidal.) Yet he could not help hearing snatches of their whispered conversation. His pointed ears were even sharper than most elf folk, having lived in Mirkwood all his life, and every so often he would hear a phrase or two. Enough to realize that Aragorn had argued with his brothers before he left.

Legolas rose to his feet with cat-like grace and approached his friends slowly, giving them time to realize he was coming and halt their whispered discourse. Elladan looked up as the prince approached and nudged his twin lightly.

Elrohir turned his face toward Legolas, and for an instant, his guard was down and the blond elf could plainly see the deep anxiety that plagued his friend.

It shook him.

"Are you ready to go?" Elladan asked to fill in the sudden silence. With a swift, graceful move, he was on his feet and already moving away. Elrohir rose more slowly, as though his lithe frame were weighted.

"We should be passing near a village soon," Elladan called over his shoulder. "It will give us a chance to pick up some supplies, and inquire after Estel."

Legolas perked up a little at the thought of discovering some news of his friend. Perhaps the humans would know where Aragorn was. Perhaps Aragorn would be _in_ the village. One could always hope. He could pray that for once everything would turn out to be easy and that no one would be seriously injured after this whole ordeal was over.

Elrohir brushed past Legolas as he followed his twin, and the blond archer got a good look at the worried expression marring his friend's face. With a groan, Legolas fell into step behind Elrohir. Even as he fixed his blue eyes on the dark braids and started to step after the young elf lord, he knew that nothing involving Aragorn would ever be that easy.

0-0-0-0

Several hours later, Legolas saw no reason to revise his opinion.

He and Elrond's sons were standing in the midst of a very busy market. Humans were jammed into the fairly small space almost shoulder to shoulder. The noise was incredible. Everywhere he looked people were buying, selling, bartering, complaining about bartering, and generally making as much noise as possible. There was hardly an inch of space between any given man, woman, or child.

Except for the five foot circumfrence surrounding the three elves wherever they went.

It might not have been so bad, Legolas reflected fatalistically, if Elladan had not been quite so worried about his younger brother. As it was, the elven warrior strode through the market with a dangerous gleam in his dark grey eyes, barking out questions to the poor merchants that could not escape from his path and frightening everyone who was not already intimidated by the pointed ears and fair, elven features.

"You know," Elrohir whispered to the prince, "we really must work on his people skills."

Legolas merely grunted as he disconsolately watched the townsfolk give them a wider and wider berth. He felt very self conscious and on display, with people staring at him and the twins(from a safe distance) as though they had never seen anything like an elf before. Which, he admitted, was entirely possible.

"Legolas," Elrohir murmured, nudging the blond elf gently. "_Tiro._" The dark haired elf nodded unobtrusively in the direction he wished the prince to look, and quickly glanced away, letting Legolas know that whatever it was, it was not to be stared at.

The fair elf allowed his blue eyes to casually scan the area, taking careful note of all he saw. For a few seconds, he could not comprehend what it was he should be seeing. He started to look back at Elrohir, but before he could turn his head completely away, his blue eyes lit on something very peculiar.

A dark haired woman stood in the door to an inn, and she was staring at them. That in and of itself was not so unusual. What struck the fair elf was that her expression was not one of curiousity, nor of fear.

Her dark eyes showed recognition. But also confusion. As if she thought she knew what she was seeing, but was not entirely sure.

Leaving Elladan bellowing at some poor vendor, Elrohir stepped toward the inn decisively. Legolas hastily fell in behind the younger twin, curious about the woman.

Noticing that they were approaching, she havered for a moment, throwing a desperate glance over her shoulder as though contemplating fleeing inside and shutting the door. Her slender hand was actually on the heavy wooden portal, but her indecision lasted a moment too long and Elrohir had his boot firmly planted within the door's frame before she could retreat.

"G-good evening, sirs," she stammered, taking a step backwards to put some distance between herself and the tall elf lord. Her dark eyes were wide with alarm. "How can I help you?" Looking over her shoulder, Legolas could see a cheerful looking common room, where a man in a leather apron, (apparently the innkeeper), was serving a meal to a guest.

"I would like to ask you a few questions, lady," Elrohir responded, his voice businesslike, yet courteous.

"Please," she bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder again, worry drawing lines across her forehead. Her gaze rested on the innkeeper for a moment before she turned back toward Elrohir and lowered her voice to barely more than a whisper. "Please, we have already paid you for this month. We can not afford more than you have already taken."

She most likely could not have said anything that would have surprised either elf more. Legolas felt his jaw drop down in shock as he stared at the woman. Obviously, something very strange was going on here.

Though taken greatly aback by the woman's plea, Elrohir quickly regained his composure. "My lady, I…I have absolutely no idea what you are speaking of. I meant to ask you…"

Immediately, her dark brows drew together in a frown. "You are not part of them?" she asked, interrupting the young elf lord.

Elrohir and Legolas exchanged a mystified look. This was going nowhere fast. How could either of them be confused with someone who was taking money from an innkeeper? Unless…

"Them?" Legolas interjected. "Has a group of elves come through here before?" If it were elves that were harassing these people, then he and the twins had run into a serious problem.

"No," she shook her head slowly, speaking more to herself than to the two fair beings. "No, he was not an elf, nor were his companions."

Elrohir stiffened almost imperceptibly, his gray eyes lighting up. "He?"

The woman shut her mouth suddenly. Her face was frightened. "I am most dreadfully sorry," she said quickly. "I seem to have confused you with someone else. Now if you will excuse me…" She started to close the door, but Elrohir was much to quick for her. Before she had hardly moved, the dark haired elf stepped forward, placing himself very firmly within the building. Legolas was at his side in a moment. Though both were leanly built, they were solidly muscled, and frustration fairly flowed off their bodies. To come so close to news of Aragorn…and suddenly be turned away was not to be born.

The woman gasped and took several steps back, her dark eyes wide.

Elrohir saw the fear in her and softened. Curbing his own impatience, he spoke gently. "Mistress, please. We are not here to harm you. I am asking questions simply because there is someone missing who is very dear to both of us. We want to find him. If you can help, I would be very grateful." The young elf lord tried to keep his words completely calm, but worry edged his tone.

Legolas watched the woman for her reaction to Elrohir's soft speech anxiously.

0-0-0-0

Nallon gazed at the two elves before her, taking in their features. They seemed to be telling the truth. She felt her fingers twitch nervously as she glanced over her shoulder at Huar again. He was blissfully unaware of the visitors, contentedly serving a guest.

Turning back towards the dark haired one, she studied his face carefully. His eyes were dark grey, the color of stormy skies. And she could see the worry and pain that he struggled to hide.

She felt a pang of conscience.

To speak of the men who came every month might land her family in severe trouble. Yet…if she remained silent, she was sure that the elf's eyes would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.

With a sigh, she nodded her dark head.

0-0-0-0

Legolas sighed in relief and thanked the Valar that it was Elrohir who had spotted this woman and not Elladan.

"A few days ago," she started quietly, "a group of men came through our village." Legolas noticed the way her eyes suddenly slid away from Ro's face and noted it for further reference. There was something that she wasn't telling them.

"I have seen these men before," she said softly. "But there was someone new with them. He was young. Much younger than any others in their group. He…did not belong among them."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked curiously.

"The…the way he moved…and…and acted…he didn't belong!" Her face twisted with confusion as she tried to explain. "I could not think of why though, not until I saw you in the marketplace. You see," she paused for a moment, as though thinking over her words very carefully. "He was dressed like them. But he moved gracefully where they stumbled. He heard things when they seemed to be deaf. And he was very polite…kind even." She shook her head decisively. "Nothing like them."

Legolas could feel Elrohir trembling with suppressed excitement. He placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed, offering support, though he himself was nearly beside himself. Obviously, these men were nothing but horrible news for this woman! What was Strider doing with them! Of course, he had to make sure that it _was_ Aragorn, but there was very little doubt left in his mind. "This man," he asked quickly, "what did he look like?"

"Dark hair," the woman said, "It came down to his shoulders." A slight grin quirked her lips for a brief moment. "He was…well…very handsome. And his eyes were almost the color of yours," she nodded at Elrohir. "But they were more silver than grey."

Legolas and Elrohir exchanged glances once again. There was no question.

"Thank you, my lady," Elrohir said fervently. "Would you happen to know which way they went when they left?"

"East."

0-0-0-0

The word was barely out of her mouth before Legolas had turned and was dashing away. A cloud of emotion threatened to tear his senses away, but he pushed it aside, to be dealt with later. For now, he would rescue the poor merchants from Elladan's ruthless questioning.

Only a few days behind Aragorn! The blond prince smirked. He knew those tracks had been Strider's.

0-0-0-0

Nallon's mouth was open, but no sound would come out. The fair elf had already sped away, and the dark haired one was bowing farewell. If she didn't speak now, she would not have the chance to again.

As the tall elf straightened, she tried to form some word. Fear rose up and choked her air away, stealing the sound from her throat. He was turning to go! She couldn't just let him leave… Not unwarned. If she let them walk into their death she would regret it forever.

Before she could think twice, she reached out, catching hold of his tunic sleeve. Surprised, he looked back. His gray eyes were wide with an unspoken question.

"Be careful!" she whispered, her voice so soft she wondered how he could have possibly heard her. But he did. His dark brows drew together in a frown.

"What do I have to be careful of, Lady?" As though reading her mind, he dropped his own deep voice down to a level that barely reached her own ears.

"These men," Nallon hissed, "are dangerous. They will hurt you if they can."

0-0-0

Elrohir felt his pulse skyrocket. He nodded his thanks once more and turned, departing. He could see Elladan and Legolas striding towards him from across the market square. She feared these men. She feared the men that his _brother _was traveling with. His little brother…

Estel. Elrohir ground his teeth together. If they hurt him…A deep fear chilled him to the bone even as he stepped forward to meet his twin. His little brother was in danger. The young man was with men who caused terror. Of course, he knew that there could be no way Estel was aware of his 'friends' deviant ways. The boy was headstrong, and more than a little eager to prove that he was 'a man', but he was honourable. He was noble. If even one of the humans he was with threatened anyone unjustly, Estel would try to stop them.

And then the three elves would find his lifeless body somewhere in the wild. Elrohir groaned. The mere thought of such a thing made him almost sick with dread.

"Ro!" A slender, strong hand fell on Elrohir's shoulder. The younger twin shook off his momentary horror and focused quickly on the face of his brother. Elladan's expression was worried. "Are you all right?"

Did he really look that bad? "I am fine." He caught the dubious look that crossed over Elladan's fair features and rolled his eyes. "Really, Dan."

The young elf lord still looked unconvinced. "You are pale."

Elrohir nodded grimly. He had good reason to be pale. "I have some bad news." Catching hold of Elladan's elbow, he nodded to Legolas and started to push through the crowd. "Come, I will tell you as we go…"

0-0-0-0

_Ten days later_

0-0-0-0

Aragorn hid a yawn behind his hand as he focused on Ian's broad back. They had been marching steadily for hours now, and though his body was used to physical exertion, he was ready for sleep. However, if, as Halith had told him, walking a little farther meant that he would get to sleep in an actual bed for a change, he was more than willing to make the sacrifice.

Step, step, step.

His movements had become so automatic, the young man almost didn't notice in time that Ian had come to a halt. With a jerk, Aragorn pulled himself to a stop, barely avoiding crashing into the older man. "What is it?" he asked blearily. "Why are we stopping?"

Halith turned back towards the ranger, his features shrouded in the darkness. "We're almost to the village. But it's sillly for all of us to go on if there's no room in the inn." His hand fluttered in a beckoning motion. "Ian, Tran. You can go make our arrangements. We'll wait here until you return."

Aragorn settled himself on the ground in relief. He was more than happy to take a break. Tired as he was, the silver-eyed ranger did not notice the sly smile that passed between Halith and the departing men.

Several minutes passed in comfortable silence.

Aragorn leaned back wearily against the trunk of a tree. A grin stretched his face for half a moment. This was usually Legolas' position when they went traveling together. The blond prince would lean back against a nearby tree as Aragorn hunched over the fire.

As quickly as the smile came, it disappeared. A twinge of guilt ate at the young man as he thought of his friend. Something deep within him knew that he should not have left before meeting Legolas. He pushed the feeling aside with mild irritation. Legolas would understand. After all, Ian had taken him a message…

"Strider!" The urgent hiss of Halith's voice caught Aragorn by surprise. Instantly awake and alert, the young man leapt to his feet and spun toward the older man.

Barely visible in the darkness, Halith held a finger to his lips and pointed towards the village. Aragorn's silver eyes swiftly followed along the line and lighted on a building. Unlike nearly every other structure, there was a small light burning within.

Confused, the dark haired man turned toward Halith, a question on his lips. What was so important about that?

Halith's face was grim. "That's not a home, Strider. It's the bakery. I know the owner personally, and he always keeps a store of cash inside, hidden in the flour bags." One rough finger jabbed at the bakery, and the dim shape of a man that could now be seen moving about within. "_That_ is most definitely _not_ the baker."

Now Aragorn was listening. "A thief."

"Aye." Halith stepped forwards decisively. "You stay here, I'll take care of this."

"No!" Before he had gotten too far, Aragorn caught the collar of his tunic, bringing him to a halt. "Do not be ridiculous. He may be armed. I am the only one here with a weapon that is longer than a dagger," he patted the hilt of his sword. "I will go. You see if you can raise some of the townsfolk. I'm sure they will be happy to help stop a thief."

Not giving him a chance to object, Aragorn slipped away.

0-0-0-0

Halith stared after the young ranger, a strange smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Cunning gleamed in his dark eyes. "Foolish," he murmured, to no one in particular. "So young and foolish."

One of his men peered through the trees, squinting into the darkness. "I think he's almost made it to the bakery."

"All right then." Halith grinned at the two men left with him. "Stay out of sight. Both of you are known here. I'll go make sure the people of this fair village help our young friend catch the …thief."

The humans chuckled along with their leader.

Halith was still smiling to himself as he started off through the dark trees. A rustling to his right made him pause, his hand going to the knife in his belt. The dark eyes peered intently into the shrubbery.

Ian stepped forward, hands raised.

Relaxing, Halith nodded in greeting. "How did it go?"

"Excellent." Reaching into his shirt, Ian pulled out a small bag that made a sound like the rattle of coins as he smacked it against his palm. "Our young friend came in as I took my leave. I blocked the exits, just to make sure he stays put."

Halith's weathered face creased into a nasty smile. "Wonderful." He clapped Ian on the shoulder. "Go join the others. I have to go make sure the young fool is found."

0-0-0-0

Aragorn sheathed his sword with mild disgust. He had searched the bakery thouroughly, looking in every nook and cranny that could possibly hide a full grown man. The candle he had seen still glowed in one of the rooms, but there was no other sign of life.

The young ranger kicked a table leg moodily as he passed it on his way to the door. He had so wanted to be the hero that his brothers always were…perhaps then they would have realized that he was not the child they thought him to be. But the thief had escaped.

Aragorn grasped the latch and pushed on the door, expecting it to swing open as easily as it had when he had entered.

It wouldn't budge.

Alarm bells started sounding in the young man's mind. Not very loudly, but they were there.

_All_ _right_, he thought, trying to calm himself. _Don't panic. Use the front door._

His feet carried him through the shop quickly. Biting his lip, he reached out and caught hold of the front door's knob. With a swiftly murmured prayer, he twisted…

Nothing.

Aragorn swallowed hard, trying to fight the rising bubble of panic in him. What was happening? Why wouldn't the doors open?

_Trapped,_ whispered a voice in his head that sounded like it spoke with a great deal of authority on the subject. Aragorn irritably told it to shut up and let him concentrate on how he was going to get out of this mess. Perhaps when the baker arrived in the morning he could explain the whole thing…

Something was happening outside. He could hear voices. Angry voices. They were shouting. And coming closer.

Backing away from the door, Aragorn swallowed hard. Of course. Halith had gone to alert the people of the village. Now they were coming to captrue a thief.

There was only one problem with that.

With a loud crunching sound, the door was kicked in. Aragorn had a glimpse of very angry faces before they rushed through the apeture, swarming towards him like the hive of hornets he had thrown rocks at when he was ten.

The ranger's hand flew to his sword, but he froze even as he fingers closed around the hilt. He didn't want to kill anybody. These people were not evil or doing anything wrong, they were just horrible mistaken!

"Wait!" He yelled, trying to make himself heard. "Wait, let me explain!"

They didn't wait. Before he knew it, he was beset by men all around. Blows flew in from all sides. Aragorn strove desperately to block what he could and even return a few, but there were simply to many.

"Wait!" he cried out again, even as a large man seized his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. The young man gasped in pain as he was forced to his knees. Out of the corner of his silver eye, he saw someone approaching with ropes. It made him want to scream in frustration. Where was Halith? "Stop!" he cried, feeling the harsh hemp ropes dig into the flesh of his wrists. "You're making a mistake!"

Something heavy came down on the back of his head, and he knew no more.

0-0-0-0

_Tiro-Look._

_Man na den?-What is it?_

_Dail hin celo forn.-These feet go away North._

_Ai! Estel, man agorech?-Ah! Estel, what have you done?_

_Esten le trenaro nin.- I hoped you would tell me._

0-0-0-0


	5. Too Late

Woohoo! I am posting, and I am on time! Yeah/ignores stunned looks from reviewers/ okay, when last we left our young ranger he had been pummeled into unconsciousness. Who wants to find out what happened to him…?

**0-0-0-0**

Pain flared sharply through the darkness that wrapped itself around him. Aragorn groaned loudly. He felt horrible. Something scratchy was digging into his cheek, and he was lying on his stomach, on a stone floor. What had happened to him? Where was he?

With an effort, he wrenched his eyes open, but immediately wished he hadn't. Bright, hot, sunlight poured through a window, hitting him full in the face and making his head throb a little more, if that were possible.

Squinting against the sudden onslaught of light, the young ranger slowly put his hands underneath himself and pushed, rolling onto his back.

It was straw that had been scratching his face. The floor was covered with it.

Trying not to jar his aching head any more than was absolutely neccesary, the dark haired man gently manouvered himself into a sitting position, placing his back against a wall. With a sigh, he finally took stock of where he was.

It was a cell. Undoubtedly. The walls were thick stone, broken only by one window (barred, of course,) and one very solid looking door. His nose wrinkled slightly in distaste as he became aware of the stench permeating the air. It smelled like hundreds of unwashed bodies had been in this prison, using the same hay, over a period of months.

The ranger let out his breath in a long sigh as he tilted his head back, resting it against the wall. Silver eyes stared bleakly at the blank ceiling.

"_Now_ what do I do?" he asked plaintively.

0-0-0-0

Legolas' sharp eyes peered through the trees. He could see the buildings of a village, directly ahead. The prince bared his teeth in a brief moment of frustration. It looked the same as the other five or so they had passed through in the last two weeks. However, the fair prince did feel a slight leap of hope as he gazed at the rural community. Perhaps they would finally catch up to Aragorn…

He knew they were getting closer. They had cut days off the human's lead. In fact, when they had last stopped, one of the villagers had confessed to seeing someone who matched Aragorn's description only the day before.

With a sigh, Legolas turned back toward the twins. Not all that they had found was to his liking. Everywhere they found news of his friend, the people seemed to be frightened of the group Strider traveled with. Everywhere. Worry constantly preyed at the edges of his mind. His blue eyes flickered towards Elladan and Elrohir. If _he_ was worried and upset, he could not imagine what _they_ must be going through.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir pulled the hood of his cloak low over his face, masking the delicate, elven features that made him stand out so horrible in a human crowd. Elladan had already done so himself, he was currently tucking his intricate braids underneath the thick wool. They had learned, to some extent, how to make their presence less noticable over the past two weeks.

Their cloaks hid their ears and hair, and disguised their faces. Elladan unbuckled the strap of his quiver and placed it carefully with his brother's. His bow and Elladan's were far too gracefully made to avoid detection. Even their swords stood out, but the cloaks helped to hide that as well.

Elladan looked up and sighed softly. "Legolas…"

The fair elf was in the process of tying back his blond hair. His bow was settled very firmly across his shoulders. Blue eyes glared at the elder twin. "No."

"Be reasonable…"

Elrohir thanked the Valar his hood was already in place, hiding the very obvious rolling eyes. "Legolas, come. You can not take the bow with you. Remember what happened last time?"

Mirkwood's heir blushed slightly. "That is not fair," he grumbled under his breath. "If it had not been for that party of dwarves…"

"Yes, yes," Elladan's tone was amused. "We know. If it hadn't been for the dwarves, they never would have noticed the 'fine elven crafstmanship', so they wouldn't have started hurling insults, so you wouldn't have retorted, and we wouldn't have ended up in a bar room brawl."

Legolas only grunted.

"Legolas," Elrohir was starting to sound perturbed. "Leave it."

The fair prince cast Elrohir a very dirty look before jerking the strap free from his shoulder and carefully laying his bow along with the twins'. Seizing the two, white handled knives from his quiver, he attached them to his belt and pulled his cloak around him closely, hiding the weapons. "Good enough?" he growled, facing Elrohir for inspection.

The young elf lord seized Legolas' hood and pulled it low over his face, effectively blotting out the scowl that was forming there. "Perfect," he said sweetly. "Let's go."

"See you back here by evening," Elladan waved, and then was gone into the trees. Elorhir nodded farewell to Legolas and set off in a different direction. They had also learned, that when entering a village, three cloaked men drew much more attention than one.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn paced the stone cell nervously. What was going on? He had not seen a living being (except for the rats) since he had come to. What had happened last night? Where was Halith and the rest of his companions?

The young man pressed down the rising bubble of panic that increased with each passing hour. How long were they going to leave him here without telling him what was going on! In frustration, he pounded his fist against the heavy door. All he received in aknowledgment was bruised knuckles. He had already tried shouting for someone. His throat burned still, reminding him in its discomfort that he had not had anything to eat or drink.

To make matters worse, the cell was getting very warm. Judging by the angle of the sun, he assumed it to be midday, or something near it. Sweat beaded on his forehead and slowly slid down his face. The young ranger rubbed his chin thoughtfully, feeling the weeks worth of stubble scratch his skin. He had gone over the stone room inch by inch, and yet he could find no way to escape. Except through the very solid door. Silver eyes glared balefully at said door.

The door took no notice of it's captive's disdain and continued to be very solid.

Something outside the cell slammed. Aragorn immediately became alert. He could hear footsteps approaching. Three men at least. They were talking amongst themselve, but he could not make out the words.

A key grated in the door.

Two very brawny men with faces like trolls shouldered their way inside and roughly seized the young ranger by each arm. A third, slender, more dignified looking fellow followed them. Aragorn thought he looked almost rat lik in his dignity. In his hands, he held a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal. He stopped in front of Aragorn and gave the man a look that suggested he had _far_ more important things to be doing.

Aragorn felt his ire rise, but he couldn't exactly do anything about it.

"Your name?" the dignified man asked coldly.

For a moment, Aragorn contemplated not answering, just to aggravate the pompous rat. One of the men holding him encouraged him to speak with an unpleasant twist to his arm.

Facing having his shoulder dislocated, the dark haired man decided that silence was not the best choice. "Strider," he ground out through his teeth, silver eyes glaring.

With a sanctimonious nod, the man hastily scratched the name down onto his parchment. "All right. Bring him boys."

Immediately, Aragorn was forced to his knees, his arms twisted behind him. He could feel one of the burly men winding a thick rope around his wrists. "Wait!" the young ranger tried to pull free, but was easily subdued. "Where are you taking me!" As soon as his wrists were tied, he was hauled to his feet and pushed forward, out of the cell. "What's going on!"

The smirking man watched as Aragorn was pulled past him. "You're going to be hanged, of course."

Cold fear exploded in the pit of the young man's stomach. His jaw dropped open, nearly hitting his chest. For a moment, he could not truly comprehend what he had been told.

Finding him unresisting, the two brawny thugs took advantage of the lull and started to hustle him down the hall.

Everything was swirling around him in a dizzying haze. Hanged! He hadn't done anything! He had not even been given a chance to defend himself! It wasn't right! It wasn't just! And he would _not_ submit without a fight!

Lashing out with his right leg, Aragorn caught the man who had twisted his arm behind the knee. With a bellow, the big man released his hold and hit the floor, his craggy face twisted in pain and anger. The man on his left cursed vilely and swung a fist, but Aragorn was prepared for that. Falling on his back, he allowed the punch to fly over him as he thrust both legs forward into the man's gut. With an 'ooof' the troll look alike doubled over, winded.

Unfortunately, troll number one had recovered sufficiently from Aragorn's kick to pounce on the young man as the ranger struggled to rise. They fell back to the floor, Aragorn on the bottom. His face connected with the stone floor. Stars swam in his vision. He was being hauled roughly to his feet. A blow to his face stunned him further. Through the haze that surrounded him, he saw a ham like fist being pulled back for another hit. Without thinking, he lashed out with his foot again. It connected with a most satisfying thud.

A blow from behind! Aragorn fell forward, but was caught before he hit the ground. The men were cursing and kicking him, but there was another voice in the background telling them to hurry up. The rat!

Thick fingers closed around his arms. He was being pulled forward once more. Aragorn braced his feet, trying to find purchase, anything that would slow the men down until his head was cleared.

Bright, hot sunlight washed over him. The stone beneath his feet turned abruptly to dirt. Noise assaulted his ears. There was a crowd surrounding a large wooden structure…

A gallows.

Aragorn kicked and struggled but it was no use. He was being hauled up the steps. The two trollish men pushed and shoved him into position. One held him as the other tried to put the noose around his neck. Aragorn ducked, twisted to the side, even tried biting at the massive arms that held him. Eventually, despite all his efforts, the heavy rope was dropped over his dark head. He could feel the roughness of the hemp against his skin.

Near panic fueled his struggles. The men were having a hard time holding him.

The rat-like official slowly stood before him and addressed the crowd. He unrolled the piece of parchment he had written Aragorn's alias on and began to read. "For the breaking and entering…"

Something was happening in the crowd. There was a disturbance. A cloaked figure was viciously elbowing his way towards the front. Shouts of outrage rose in his wake, but he paid them no heed.

"Failure to comply with the law…"

Aragorn gasped with the rest of the crowd as he saw the hood and cloak ripped away. Blond hair gleamed in the sunlight. Blue eyes blazed in a fair, elven face. An expression of absolute fury twisted Legolas' face.

"An elf...!"

Legolas! Aragorn felt his heart soar as he saw his friend. Legolas was here! His struggles increased exponentially. But the crowd's interest was turning from his death to the oddity of an elf in their midst. Legolas' face took on a panicked expression. "Get out of my way!" His long arms pushed ruthlessly through the seething mass of people. "MOVE!"

"And general intent of malice, it is the decree of this town that the man known as 'Strider' shall be…" the rat like man halted suddenly, noticing the elf for the first time. Aragorn swore vilely under his breath. He was frightened. Legolas could not reach him in time…

The prince's face was contorted with an expression that spoke of anger…and fear. He knew that he couldn't make it… "Strider!" His hands were moving as though for his bow, but Aragorn had already seen the empty space above his friend's shoulder. A bitter taste rose in the back of his throat.

The official signaled the hangman.

At once, Aragorn felt the trollish men release his arms. The platform dropped from beneath his booted feet.

He had one last view of Legolas' horrified face before he felt the rope draw tight across his throat…

0-0-0-0

**Saerwen-** Don't worry, sweetie. A long pause between chapters only happens about once a year. I'm over it now. :) So here is your update…and not a minute too soon! I have saved the Wardwraiths from a fate worse than death. Being mauled by fanfic readers. Ouch. But I must ask, where did you get the Pickles of Doom? I've been looking for them everywhere, and doesn't stock them anymore. Anyway, thanks for the review! And see, reviewing the first chapter DID help:) I appreciate the feedback.

**Stoneage Woman- **Why thank you/blushes/ I'm VERY sorry about the long wait for the last chapter. I really try very hard not to let such long amounts of time pass between my posting cause I know how much I hate it when I'm reading a story that hasn't been updated in months. But that delay was unavoidable! I swear! However, since I'm out of school, it shouldn't happen again. Actually, I didn't mean to pirate the line from Disney /cast wary glance at the Disney lawyers approaching/ but I love that movie too, so my subconscious must have pulled it out.

**Singingharp-** Yeah, like I believe that you won't hurt Estel much. I'm sorry, I just can't trust you with those weapons of mass torture in your hands. And I KNOW how much you love to see the ranger wounded and in pain. Don't you touch him though! (Estel) wow, it's nice to see you sticking up for me for a change… (Me) I need him nice and fresh for my muse. (SM) Weehee! Torture! (Estel) mother…

**Evergreene**- /makes mental note/ for future reference, Evergreene doesn't like cliffhangers…/promptly forgets/ Oh you love cliffhangers? So do I! Writing them, that is. /evil laugh/ Thanks for the positive feedback. No, goblins really don't do all that much for any of our heros health, but I'm glad you liked the conversation they produced.:)

**Aranna Undomiel-** Don't worry. I really do try not to have month long waits during my posting. There shouldn't be another one of that length anytime soon. There IS a method to my madness, believe it or not. There IS a reason that Aragorn was betrayed and it will become obvious in about the next chapter or so. The black belt in ranting is much deserved. Congratulations. :)

**Ithil-Valon-** Woohoo! If anything could make me feel great, it is someone telling me my chapter was worth a month long wait! Thank you SOOOO much!

**QueenofFlarmphqal-** I know exactly what you mean. As much as I love all the LOTR characters (Legolas and Aragorn in particular) There is nothing I like more that reading about them getting beat up, whipped, flayed, and otherwise harmed in painful torture like ways. Weird, isn't it? Glad you understand about the teachers. I don't know what it was but suddenly it's like they all looked at the calendar and said 'holy cow! Only two weeks left! DUMP ON THE WORK!'

**Deep Sorrow- **Look! I'm posting again! On time, I might add! Isn't that awesome? Aren't you impressed/notices siblings stony look of beta nagging/ oh fine, be that way. I promise the rest of it will be out on time as well. It shouldn't be that hard now that school is over and all I have is hardly any hours at Cracker Hell. /cuddles half stripped Legolas to make herself feel better/ The torture is coming up soon too/Legolas tries frantically to get away, only to be squeezed tighter/

**Okay, so that was an evil cliffie. And you know what makes it even more special? I already used it in chapter one! Recyclable cliffies, you gotta love it. The next chapter should actually be up by Monday, cause I'm going to try to make that my new posting day. So less than a week! Yay! Please review! You know you want to!**


	6. Dark Visions

I know, I know, I'm late. I'm sorry, but I just can't seem to get a chapter out in anything less than a week! What's wrong with me? Anyway, the last chapter ended with Aragorn kind of being hung, so lets see what kind of casket…/notices Aragorn lovers approaching with sharp weaponry/ I mean…let's find out how he gets out of that rather unpleasant situation. :)

0-0-0-0

Legolas whipped a dagger from his belt even as Aragorn fell, preparing to fling the weapon and sever the rope that held his friend. To his horror, a man leapt up from the crowd onto the gallows platform, putting himself between the prince and his goal. Legolas could have howled in rage. But wait…

The man in question was already drawing his own blade. With one quick slice, he chopped through the rope. Aragorn's body fell to the ground with a very final thud. Legolas did not stop to question who this man was. He did not care. All his attention was focused on the young ranger lying motionless underneath the gallows platform. Ignoring the shrill protests that rose in his wake, the lissom elf dove forward, pushing humans violently out of his way.

The fair prince fell to his knees in a skidding halt beside Aragorn. The young man's eyes were closed. He did not seem to be breathing. What if the fall had snapped his neck? With trembling hands, Legolas pressed his long fingers against his friend's neck, praying he would feel the pulse…

He did.

Gasping in relief, the elf all but ripped away the noose still encircling Aragorn's neck. Pulling the human into his arms, Legolas cradled his friend protectively against his chest, calling to him anxiously. "Strider, wake up!" The elf's head jerked up as he realized several men were coming towards him. In his haste, he had forgotten that his friend was supposed to be hanged.

Fury rose in the icy blue eyes. For a moment, the men were daunted by the ferocious glare aimed in their direction. Finally, one stepped forward, a weapon in his hand. His intent was clear. He would slay the ranger even as he lay in Legolas' arms!

"_Daro_!" Control stretched to the absolute limit, Legolas reverted to elvish. His tone was cold and harsh, even in the musical language of the elves. Years of authority from his position of the Prince of Mirkwood gave him a commanding edge, though the man most definitely could not understand what he was saying.

The man stopped, confused. His weapon wavered in his hand for a moment.

Legolas made an imposing sight, even in his crouched, awkward position. The fair elf's eyes were blazing in his pale face. Teeth bared in a snarl, the elven prince carefully laid his friend down and drew his own slender blades. They gleamed, even in the shadow of the gallows. Gripping the hilts tightly, Legolas pointed the wickedly sharp steel at the man closest to him. "_Chebo byr lin ello mellon nin, adan_!"

Frightened, the men stepped backwards. Even as they did so, someone leapt from the platform above, and pushed his way through towards Legolas. Perceiving the new threat, Legolas rose with cat-like grace, his weapons at the ready. So swift was his movement, he would have had his blade embedded in the newcomer's throat if the man had not cried out.

"Stop! Wait! I'm a friend of Strider's!" The man held his hands up in a placating gesture, showing that he was unarmed. His dark eyes were wide as he gazed at the elf. "I'm the one who cut him down."

Legolas eyes the man warily, unsure of whether to trust him or not. "_Man eneth lin_?" he asked coldly. The elf was halfway into his battle mode, ready to attack anything that moved towards his friend.

Confusion filled the man's weather beaten face. "What?"

"Your name," Legolas snapped, annoyed that he had made the mistake of speaking in his own tongue. "What is your name?" Behind the man, the fair elf could see several other humans persuading the crowd to depart. They were dressed much like the man before him, and from the glances they threw in his direction every so often, the prince assumed this was their leader. He relaxed somewhat now that there was not a bloodthirsty mob after Aragorn's head, but continued to eye the human before him with undisguised distrust.

"Halith, I am called."

"Legolas…"

Legolas looked down sharply at the weak voice. A wave of relief crashed over him as he saw silver eyes gazing up at him blearily. A brief smile stretched Aragorn's mouth. "I thought I saw you," he rasped. His voice was hoarse and choked. A red ribbon of raw skin circled his throat. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but his hands were still bound behind his back.

Immediately, both Legolas and Halith moved toward the young ranger to aid him. Halith quickly stepped back when Legolas very nearly snarled at him. The elf quickly dropped to his knees, his sharp blades making quick work of the thick rope wrapped around Aragorn's hands.

"It is all right, _mellon nin_," Aragorn whispered, seeing the fair prince's look of distrust as his blue eyes latched onto Halith. "He is a friend."

Legolas stared down at the dark haired man in disbelief. Now that the initial fear and adrenaline rush were leaving, he found his worry being rapidly replaced with fury. An overwhelming urge to wrap his hands around Aragorn's throat and finish the job the humans could not accomplish was rising within him. He had disappeared for weeks! No message! Nothing! Not for his family nor his friends. The prince ground his teeth together as he glared at Aragorn. The twins had been nearly sick with worry for their younger brother. He could only imagine what Lord Elrond must have gone through when his youngest did not return when he said he would! And he, Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood had gone almost insane wondering if he would ever see his friend again, only to arrive just in time to watch the young ranger hang!

And he had not been able to stop it.

Aware of Halith's eyes upon him, Legolas swallowed the furious diatribe he longed to hurl at the prone form of his friend. He rose, gazing down at the ranger coldly. "Can you walk?" he managed to grind in an almost civil tone through clenched teeth.

Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise at Legolas' voice. But he quickly pulled himself to his feet. "I believe so."

"Good." Again, the terse, clipped tone.

"I have spoken to the town official," Halith smiled ruefully at the young man. "Believe me, when I sent you to catch a thief, I had no idea you yourself would be caught!"

"Nor I," Aragorn returned the grin.

"Thank you for your help," Legolas said cooly. He did not trust this man. Not after what he had seen in the villages and what he had heard of those Aragorn traveled with. The prince turned icy eyes on his friend. "Your brothers will meet us outside the town." Before Aragorn could even think to protest, Legolas had seized his arm and was very nearly carrying him away.

The prince's expression was so fierce, there was none left in the remaining crowd that dared halt him. The humans cleared a path quickly for the irate elf. Though he tried to ignore it, Legolas knew that Halith and his men were following in his wake. This made him uneasy. He did _not_ want this man to be anywhere near where he and Strider were going to be meeting the twins.

Also, he wished to be alone with his friend. If nothing more than to have no witnesses when he killed the young man with his bare hands! But now, even the anger was slowly fading. It was replaced with the hurt that had haunted his footsteps since he realized Aragorn had walked off without even thinking of the promise he had made to greet Legolas when he entered Lord Elrond's valley. Legolas winced slightly at the memory. It was the first time, in his recollection, that his friend had not been there to make some good natured jibe as to how late the elf was. It hurt more than he though it could. He felt…forgotten.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn walked swiftly to keep up with Legolas' quick strides, thanking the Valar that they had seen fit to bless him with long legs. The young man cast a quick glance at the elf out of the corner of his eye. Legolas fair features were set in a stony expression. His blue eyes were cold and hard.

He looked…tired. It surprised Aragorn that this word came to his mind. But indeed, that was what struck him the most. There was an air of fatigue that surrounded the prince. It was etched on his face. His limbs moved as gracefully as ever…but there was something about Legolas' posture that suggested a deep weariness, and pain. Aragorn reached out and touched the prince's green sleeve gently. "Legolas," he whispered, keeping his voice low enough that Halith could not hear him. "Are you all right?"

Shock spread across the elf's face like ripples on a pond. "Am…I…_all right_?" he choked, though his voice was no louder than Aragorn's had been. "Eru! Strider…" To Aragorn's horror, his friend's voice actually broke. Looking closely, the ranger realized that the fair prince was shaking with some repressed emotion.

Legolas came to an abrupt stop. "Here," he snapped. "This is where your brothers agreed to meet. Please excuse me." Without waiting for a reply, the elf stalked away, leaving a very confused group of humans behind.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir frowned slightly as he strolled through the town's market. This was very unusual. The stalls were occupied only by the merchants that ran them and a very few customers. What was going on? In every other town the three elves had stopped in, the market was always jammed with humans.

"Business is not very good today," the young elf lord remarked mildly to a fruit vendor.

The young man shook his head as he rearranged the apples at his stand. "No. And for once, I don't mind."

"Why is that?" Elrohir's tone was curious, but did not not sound overly interested.

"The hanging of course."

"Hanging?" Trouble. He would bet his best dagger that Estel had found some way to be involved in it.

"Are you just arrived, that you don't know of what's happened?" The human's light eyebrows were raised, almost connecting with the fuzzy halo of blond curls falling over his brow. He could not see Elrohir's face very clearly in the depths of the elf's hood, but took his silence as an affirmative.

"Last night, we caught one of the thieves breaking into the baker's shop." There was a smug air about the youth as he recounted the event. "He was taken to be hung this afternoon. Half the town was probably out there to see it." He scowled for an instant. "But my master said that I had to watch our stall."

Elrohir fought hard not to let his mouth drop open, revealing his shock. "He had no trial?"

"Of course not!" The tow-headed boy leaned his elbows against the counter and stared hard at his customer. "He's one of _them_." Anger shook his voice. Getting no reaction from the elf, his eyes widened. "You have not heard of them?"

The hood swayed slightly. It could have been a head shake, or an errant breeze, but it was good enough for the youth. " A few months back, a group of men started coming around. They were ruffians, out for bad sport, or so we thought. Then they started to demand money from the inns and such. When they were not paid, they started to get violent. Of course, when that happened, we joined up and drove them out. We thought that was the end of it." The boy paused for a moment, and his face became grim. "Then one night they came back. A building was burned to the ground. By their hands. There were people inside. The next morning, while we were all tired and covered with soot from fighting the flames, they walked into the square, bold as brass, and said that if we did not pay them, more destruction would follow. Ever since then they have harrassed us. It is not often we can catch one of them in the act, but when we do, you can bet we don't let them get away."

Elrohir swallowed hard. He had suspected something like this. All through the journey to find his brother it had haunted the back of his mind. He remembered the fear that shone from dark eyes as he questioned the inn keeper's wife in the first village they had stopped at. And Estel was caught up in the middle of it. "How did you catch him?"

The boy shrugged. "Someone was awake. Came pounding on doors in the middle of the night yelling about a thief in the baker's shop."

Perhaps it was Halith that had been caught. One could only hope. "And the man who was taken to be hung? Who was he?"

Elrohir knew that the question was odd, and received a sideways look from the boy. He bit his lip. If the vendor thought that he was in any way connected to the group of ruffians, he could very well be finding _himself_ on the way to the hangman's noose. "I ask," he said roughly, "Because I am searching for a thief myself. If this is the one I seek, then I need look no further."

"Good luck with your search, stranger," Came a gruff voice behind him. Elrohir spun, to nearly break his nose on the chest of a very large human. The elf's eyes widened as he looked up. He was tall himself, but the man that stood before him was at least a foot above his own respectable height.

"Ah…Theon!" The boy's eyes lit up as he saw the new arrival. "How went the hanging?"

"It didn't." The giant known as Theon continued to look down on Elrohir very suspiciously. Elrohir could not blame him. If what the boy said was true, these people had good reason to be wary of strangers. "It was incredible. Just as the man dropped, someone leapt from the crowd and cut the rope. A few men tried to go under the platform to fetch him back and try again, but this elf…"

Elrohir started violently. "An elf!"

Two pairs of eyes glanced at him curiously. "Aye," Theon continued. "An elf got there first. He wouldn't let anyone near. I swear to," the giant shook his head in wonder. "I do not believe I have ever seen anything so frightening in all my days. He would have killed any man that stepped within reach of his blades."

Blades. Legolas. Legolas had come to the man who had been about to be hung. Which could only mean one thing…Elrohir felt nauseated as he realized what had happened. "So…he was allowed to just walk away?" He heard his own voice, but could not believe it sounded so steady. He was anything but steady. In fact, he would have very much liked to collapse into a heap on the ground, as his knees did not feel like they would hold him much longer.

"Actually, it turned out he wasn't a thief after all." The giant shrugged. "The man who cut him down said he could vouch for him. Says, that they saw someone in the baker's shop last night. He went for help while Strider tried to catch the roughneck. Strider just had the bad luck to get caught himself in the thief's place."

"Strider?" Elrohir croaked.

"The man who was almost hung."

Ignoring the inquisitive eyes that followed him, Elorhir quickly murmured something about having to go and staggered away. He had to find Elladan.

0-0-0-0

"Legolas?"

The Prince of Mirkwood crouched on a branch, his eyes staring off into the distance, wrestling with the mire of emotions that wanted to explode within him. He heard the soft voice calling his name, but did not respond.

"Legolas, I know you are up there!"

Legolas' eyes narrowed angrily. That…_human_! He was more than furious. He was enraged. And he did not trust himself not to vent on his friend the moment he saw the _adan's_ stubbly face. The fair elf sighed softly, trying desperately to get a hold of himself. It was not easy. He was so angry with the ranger. Beneath his anger however, he was hurt. And he knew, that as the hot rush of rage disappeared, the hurt would become more painful.

It made him even angrier.

"If you are not coming down, then I will come up!"

Legolas snorted softly. Fat chance. If he, a wood elf, could barely make it to his present perch, there was no way Strider would ever be able to complete the climb. He had chosen his current position for that very reason.

A scuffling sound below let him know that Aragorn was trying his best, however. He was meanly pleased to hear the 'thud' a few seconds later that informed him he had made an accurate calculation of the ranger's climbing ability. A slightly malicious smile curled the corners of his mouth, only to to disappear a second later as Aragorn's (winded) voice reached his ears.

"Legolas! This is ridiculous! Come down at once and stop sulking! This is childish!"

Those words were like putting a torch to a barn full of dried hay.

Legolas did not even bother climbing down. He simply rolled to the side and allowed himself to fall. He did not look before he leapt, half hoping he would land on his friend. As luck would have it, he dropped to the ground directly in front of the young ranger. Rising from his crouched position, the elf saw the pleased expression on Strider's face die a quick death as the human realised just how angry the prince truly was.

The dark haired man quickly took a step back, his hands rising in a placating gesture. "Legolas…"

"Childish?" Legolas hissed evilly, his soft boots making no sound as he advanced on his friend. "_I_ am being childish!" One long, slender hand snaked out, catching hold of Aragorn's worn leather coat and pulled him forward until his face was barely an inch from the elf's. "This from you who left without a word to your family for weeks! Three weeks since you left Rivendell to be exact, _Strider_. Three weeks! Your brothers have been worried to the point of insanity!" Legolas gave Aragorn a hard push, releasing his collar at the same time. He watched with cold eyes as the ranger stumbled backwards.

"You do not understand," Aragorn regained his balance quickly. His silver eyes glared back at the blond prince. "How could you? You are an elf, like them."

"I am also your friend, or I thought I was. As such, I have no compunction in telling you that you are out of line. And since when does my being an elf have anything to do with understanding! Legolas eyed the young man before him shrewdly. He suddenly realised that he was very close to discovering what had happened between the twins and their younger brother the night before Aragorn left Rivendell. Aragorn's words had the taste of an old grieviance that he had nursed for weeks, allowing it to grow into an ugly monster.

"Do not speak to me as if I were a small child in need of correction!" The words were fierce as they left Aragorn's lips. "I have heard it from my brothers, and I do not need to hear it from you too!" He drew his breath in sharply. "When will any of you understand? I am grown! I can make my own decisions! I do not need you to follow after me or to hold my hand!"

"Do you honestly think," Legolas said in a dangerous voice, "that I would follow you because I thought you were incapable of making your own decisions? No, ranger. I joined with the twins because they, and I were worried out of our minds for your safety! And I have traveled with Elladan and Elrohir for weeks now and watched them grow more and more concerned with each step they took! Do you have no conception of how much pain you have caused them!" The prince was yelling now, his normal composure abandoned. But within his anger still lurked the heart of his rage. He was hurt. The twins had been hurt. Legolas bit his lip hard. He recalled the moment he had seen a noose slip over Aragorn's head. He felt he would be sick. Thanking the Valar that the twins had not been there, he turned away from his friend, trying desperately to calm himself.

0-0-0-0

As if a spear had entered his heart, Aragorn saw the truth of the elf's words as Legolas turned away. His actions came crashing down upon him like a physical weight. "Legolas…" Valar. What had he done? How would he have reacted if the twins had simply disappeared one day, and did not return for weeks? What would he have done if he had arrived in a town just in time to see someone slip a noose over Legolas' head?

"I…I am sorry, _mellon nin._"

Legolas turned slowly. His eyes were still fiery. "You should be."

Aragorn sighed softly in frustration. He _was_ sorry. "Legolas, I did not mean to hurt them, trust me. I…I am just so tired of the way they look at me! As if I were still the toddler that was brought to them after the death of his parents. They do not seem to realise that I have grown."

"Perhaps if you acted as if you had matured…" the fair prince's voice was half kidding, half very serious. "If it were respect you were looking for, Strider, do not think you have gained it with this stunt."

"Stunt?" Aragorn was surprised, and a little hurt by his friend's words. Had he not explained what was happening in the message Ian had delivered? "Legolas I am helping these men. They need me."

The fair elf snorted. "Oh yes. We have heard a lot of their…need."

Perplexed by Legolas' dark tone, Aragorn remained silent. Why had not Legolas shared his message with Elladan and Elrohir? Surely the twins would not have been so worried if they knew their younger brother was helping someone. It was not like the fair elf to forget something as important as that.

"The next time you decide to run off," Legolas said in a tired sort of voice, "at least let someone know where you are going."

A small trickle of ice slipped down the ranger's spine. "What are you talking about Legolas? I told you."

The prince's head turned toward Aragorn sharply. His eyes were wide. "Strider, I do not know what hallucigenic plant you have consumed, but I have no idea what you are speaking of."

"The message!" Seeing Legolas' blank look, he elaborated. "I sent you a message to explain where I was going and why. Ian said that he delivered it to you…" Aragorn's voice trailed off as he saw Legolas shaking his head.

"I received no message."

"And there was a very good reason for that," Halith remarked casually as he stepped out of the trees with the rest of his men, plus several more that Aragorn did not recognize. Halith grinned nastily, his dark eyes glittering in cruel amusement. "You see, it was never delivered."

0-0-0-0

Adan-human 

_Dunadan- Man of the west_

_Chebo byr lin ello mellon nin, adan!- Keep your hands from my friend, human!_

_Mellon nin- my friend._

_0-0-0-0_

**Ainu Laire- **Indeed. Resuable cliffies are the best thing since sliced bread. Oh I know what it's like to have school eat up your time. 

**Stoneage Woman-** Pay no attention to those heros and do please remember that if you kill the authoress, there will be no resolution to the very evil cliffies. /hopeful smile/ I write incredibly evil cliffies/blushes/ why thank you!

**QueenofFlarmphqal-** Heh heh heh heh, if you think that Aragorn is in severe pain now, just wait till the later chapter. /evil laughter/ There is going to be some SERIOUS ranger whomping. And thank you for the well wishing, I am now free of school! Woohoo!

**Saerwen-** Gah! Not irresistable puppy eyes! Who could resist/notices that she is posting two days later than she said she would/ oh. /embarrassed chuckle/ apparently I can. Sorry! I did not mean to update late! But it took me forever to find the interdimensional grocery store…looks into ward and sees the chaos Saerwen has wrecked/ …oh dear… you know, I think I'm just going to back up slowly now…:) Hmm. Any more late updates and I may have to send the wardwraiths an apology and nice fruit basket.

**Evergreene-** Okay, I'm updating/sees Evergreene passed out on the floor from holding breath/ oops. Not what I meant to do. But look! I have another chapter! It fixes the evil cliffie…and ends with another one. Sorry! Well…not really, but I could be if I tried really hard. /smiles sweetly/

**Aranna Undomiel-** Seeing as I have not kept my promise…/runs away from the noose Aranna is holdingCome on! If I hang I won't be able to write any more, and I left this chapter on a cliffie too! Not as bad as the last one, but a cliffie nonetheless. Glad you liked it though.:)

**Ithil-Valon-** I'm evil? Why thank you! Gosh, that's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Sorry to leave you 'hanging' but it was neccesary. Well, not really, but I thought it would be fun. After all, what's a good story without angst, pain, and cliffies? Boring. :) Of course, I only enjoy the cliffies when I already know what's going to happen…

**SilentBanshee-**Close, but no. Not this time. I did think of that however. /Puss in Boots imitation/ Already our minds are becoming one… Hey, and in this chapter we got to see an angry Legolas. Not as hot as a really torked off Thranduil…but close.

**Viggomaniac-** Right where we want him indeed. I take no joy in the torture, angst, pain, and sufmling…/pauses to wipe her mouth/ stupid drool. Okay, I admit it. I love to cause these character pain. Twisted, no? But fun. Glad you liked the suspense, and thank you for the compliment on my language skills. I really appreciate it. I did TRY to get this out on Monday, but it just didn't work this week. Maybe next time. Shades of Fear, you say? I'll certainly take a look at it.

**Singingharp- **Okay, it is not that I didn't TRUST you with Estel, it's just that I know your love for torture angst and all that good pain stuff and I really need the ranger for the rest of this story. If I let you have him, he'd disappear and we would never see him again! Don't try to deny it, you know it's true. I've even seen the little cell you've prepared for him. But don't worry, the torture and angst for our ranger is not far off! And it's just around the next chapter for the elf... Anyway, thank you as always for your wonderful review and do not let my muse or my siblings alter ego see you going into that cell. :)

**Iccle Fairy-** hey! Long time no see! Glad to hear you are enjoying the story though. Thanks much for the feedback. :)

**Alexandra-**But I thought cliffies were our friends…:) Just kidding. I am fully aware of how evil I am being. I just love being evil. Thank you for the feedback! I'm glad you are liking the story!

**Deep Sorrow**- /Wereauthoress takes a small break from chasing her elusive sibling, just long enough for the moon to go behind a cloud/ Ah, that's better. Anyhoo, thanks for the delightful nagging, harping and general prodding to make me get my chapters out on time. Who know where this story would be without you? (Legolas, wistfully) Not being written? (Me) quiet. Just because you're going to get whomped in the next chapter. /twins and Estel pat Legolas sympathetically on the back./ I don't know what you guys are doing dispensing sympathy for, it's not like you're going to get off… anyway, thanks again and about the whole being late thing, I forgive you for that little comment…/moon comes back out/ hold that thought. /turns back into a wereauthoress and resumes chasing of beta with the hopes of devouring./

**Allright! In the next chapter, there will be whomping! Finally/notices reviewers are backing away/ oh come on! If your reviews are anything to go by, most of you people are even more bloodthirsty than I am. And that's saying something. Anyway, I will try once more to get this out by Monday, if it's not up by then, it WILL be up by at least Wednesday. PLEASE REVIEW! I love reviews…they are my life's blood…my reason for writing…/authoress descends into shamless groveling/**


	7. Betrayal

**So last chapter we found out that Halith is the bad guy/waits for gasps of shock/ what, you're telling me you all saw that coming? Man…:) anyway, I left the ranger and Legolas in a rather sticky situation, (and was late to post AGAIN, I'm sorry!) so let's see how they deal with this new knowledge.**

0-0-0-0

Legolas hands were already darting for his knives, but Halith lunged forward, pressing the blade of a dagger against Aragorn's throat. The young ranger froze, feeling the cold steel scrape lightly against his jugular vein. Legolas also froze. Fury blazed brightly in the elf's blue eyes, but he knew he could do nothing while his foe had such an upper hand.

The prince allowed his long fingers to slide away from the white hilts of his knives.

Halith nodded in approval. With a jerk of his head, he motioned to his men to take hold of Legolas.

"What are you doing?" Aragorn hissed, shocked at this sudden turn of events. He could feel men also coming behind him, pulling his arms back and binding them tightly. Halith smiled tightly at the younger man. With a flourish, he pulled his dagger away and tucked it in his belt. Aragorn could do nothing but glare at him in helpless rage.

Seeing his friend out of danger, Legolas began to struggle, but his hands were already bound, and at least three men held him tightly.

"It's quite simple, Strider." Halith was still smiling, but Aragorn could see the cruelty shining in his dark eyes. "I am part of a large…organization. We have been moving into this area little by little, collecting…donations from the locals."

The young ranger felt as though his world was tipping out of control. Was this the same man he had traveled with for weeks? Anger and guilt stirred within him. Why had he not listened to his family? He had proved them right. How foolish he had been! Silver eyes darted towards the blond prince. And now, perhaps he would not be the only one to reap the whirlwind he had sowed. Turning his face back towards Halith, he felt his anger rise. "You're a thief," he spat coldly. "Nothing but a common thief."

Halith only grinned. "Hardly," he replied. "A common thief is caught and brought to 'justice.'" A mocking grin cracked the man's weather beaten face. "No, I am really more of a lord to these villages of sheep. We've been extending our operation for quite some time now, taking one town at a time. Unfortunately, there have been some setbacks recently."

Aragorn knew without question what those setbacks were. "You couldn't push into lands protected by the elves."

"Exactly." Halith looked thrilled that Aragorn had caught on so fast. "Which is where you, Strider, come in." The dark eyes took on a very serious look. "You know the elves' land. You have lived with them. Their ways are known to you, and therefore, their secrets." Halith leaned close, his voice barely more than an excited whisper. "What I am about to offer to you," he said quietly, "is a chance to prosper." Seeing the confused look that spread across Aragorn's face, he elaborated. "Join with us. We need your knowledge of the elves to proceed. You could be rich, and rule over this land like a king…"

Silver eyes flew wide with horror as Aragorn realised what was being presented to him. Betray his father? His brothers? Never! Not in a thousand lifetimes! A hot gush of rage flowed through him at the very thought. How dare this man!

With a snarl, the young ranger lashed out with a booted foot. It caught Halith squarely in the stomach. The man instantly doubled over, air leaving his body with an _oof_. Aragorn had little time to gloat. One of Halith's men instantly stepped forward and plunged his own fist into the young man's gut. Now it was the ranger's turn to double up. Concentrating on breathing, Aragorn did not see the follow up punch. It landed firmly on his jaw, knocking his head back.

Dark hair fell over his eyes as he hung limply between the men that held him. He was gasping and stars floated through his vision. Someone was yelling, but he could not make out any words. Another blow to the face. He could taste blood on his tongue. Warm liquid was flowing from his nose. It dripped, spattering the ground at his feet. Red. Bright red. Dazed, he struggled to draw his head up. He would not be weak in front of these men!

Through a haze, he could see his tormentor drawing back for yet another swing, but someone grabbed hold of his wrist. Halith.

The older man pushed his subordinate away impatiently. "That was unnecesary and foolish, Strider," he said sharply. Aragorn tried hard to concentrate on the man's face, but it was fading in and out. He could still hear someone yelling, and suddenly recognized the voice as belonging to Legolas. A sliver of fear rose swiftly within him. He knew Legolas well. The prince would try to distract the human's attention from Aragorn…bringing it to rest squarely on his own shoulders.

"Legolas…" Aragorn's groan was barely more tha a whisper. He doubted even elven hearing could have picked it up. "Legolas," he tried again attempting to push some strength into his weakened voice. "Legolas, be _silent_!"

If the Mirwood prince heard Aragorn's plea he did not take any notice. Rather he clear tones became louder. The young ranger shook his head dizzily trying to clear out the fog that had settled there. He still could not make out what the elf was saying, but with a growing feeling of despair, he heard Legolas' tone become mocking.

Valar. Eru. Legolas was insulting them. He was restrained, outnumbered and in a dreadful position and he was _insulting _them! Was he _insane_! "Legolas!"

There was a dull sounding 'thud,' and Legolas' voice cut off abruptly with a gasp.

Aragorn thought he would be ill.

0-0-0-0

Dark grey eyes flitted unceasingly over the human crowd. Elrohir hissed softly in frustration. _Where_ was Elladan! Perhaps he had already learned of Estel's 'hanging' and returned to the meeting place…a wry grin quirked one corner of Elrohir's mouth. If Elladan had heard anything about his little brother's near death experience, he would be currently throwing a _very _loud fit. Which would make it easier to find him.

"_Gwanor_," Elrohir whispered, straining to see over the heads of those around him. "_Mas le_?"

Horses and carriages moved quickly through the cobbled streets making Elrohir wonder how on arda they avoided trampling the many humans on foot. More than once he saw someone dive to the side of the road at the last instant, barely avoiding being crushed.

"_Legolas!"_

Elrohir gasped, his eyes darting back and forth for the source of the voice, but even as he looked, somehow he knew that what he was hearing _was not there…_

"_Legolas!"_

Without warning, Elrohir was engulfed by a black vision from his nightmares.

0-0-0-0

_Estel struggled in the arms of two men holding him, his face white and anguished. He was bleeding, but did not seem to notice his wounds…_

0-0-0-0

Elrohir stumbled forward blindly, his grey eyes seeing nothing that was before him. "Estel!"

0-0-0-0

"_Leave him alone!" Estel was crying out at humans. Humans that held Legolas. Not heeding the young ranger, they were beating the prince viciously. Elrohir could see blood on the prince's fair face…_

0-0-0-0

Caught within the vision, Elrohir staggered on, unheeding of the humans that flowed around him.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Hey, mind who you're pushing!"

Someone shoved him hard from behind. The young elf lord nearly fell forward. He felt his hood slip backwards. Dark braids fell across his face.

0-0-0-0

_Dark strands were falling over silver eyes. Estel was thrashing violently, trying to wrest himself free._

_Legolas gasped as a fist connected with his abdomen. The lithe prince went limp in his captors' arms. They let him fall to the ground. A kick landed on the fair elf's ribs and Elrohir heard something crack. "No…"_

0-0-0-0

"No!" The raven haired elf flapped his hand wildly, as if he could wipe away the images. Voices were raised around him, shouting, screaming…

0-0-0-0

Elladan scowled into the mass of humanity. He had been trying to talk to someone, anyone, all day! No luck. The elf warrior sighed in frustration. The storm cloud of his emotion seemed to precede him, scaring away anyone who might have been useful talking to.

The elder twin's dark eyes roved over the crowd. Something was happening on the opposite side of the street. Dark brows drew down in a frown. What on Arda..?

A tall hooded figure stumbled and staggered, almost like a drunken man. Shouts of protest rose behind him from the people he collided with. Elladan felt a flicker of unease. Wasn't that Elrohir's cloak?

A man pushed the figure from behind. The hood fell backwards, revealing dark hair, fair features, and pointed ears. Elrohir's were wide and haunted. He did not seem to see what he was doing…

"Elrohir!" Elladan leapt forward. He didn't know what was wrong, but obviously his twin needed assistance. Elrond's first born pushed through the crowd as best as he could, trying not to draw undue attention.

The younger twin's features twisted, as if he witnessed some horror no one else could see. "No!" he cried, his slender hands moving to wipe away a terrible vision.

A clatter rose from the end of the street. A carriage was coming…and Elrohir was directly in its' path! "Ro! Ro, move!" Elladan abandoned any attempt to remain subtle and charged forward. "Move!"

But Elrohir did not seem to hear. He stood, rooted to the spot. Eyes wide and staring. Others were yelling at him, trying to warn him, but he did not respond.

The carriage driver was not paying attention…

"RO!" At the last instant, Elladan leapt into a spectacular flying tackle, hitting his brother squarely and sending them both rolling out of harm's way. The carriage passed within inches of them, the wind from it stirring Elladan's hair. His hood had fallen off as he leapt, revealing pointed ears poking through his tousled braids.

Aware that they were being stared at, Elladan quickly got to his feet and hauled his brother up as well.

"Dan…" Elrohir looked pale and drawn, but his eyes were focused. Without a word, Elladan seized his twin's arm and quickly marched him away. He was seething. Elrohir could have been killed! What did he think he was doing!

The younger twin seemed dazed, and hardly aware of where he was being led. "Dan…we have to get back to the meeting place."

"We will," Elladan snapped, reaching out and jerking Elrohir's hood back over his dark hair. "Once we have found Estel." He quickly replaced his own hood as well. "What were you doing!" he hissed angrily. "You were almost hit! Why didn't you get out of the way!" The questions came out sharply as worry for his brother made him angry.

To his surprise, Elrohir came to a halt and jerked his hood off once more. The elf's grey eyes were blazing and his features were twisted with horror. "You do not understand, Elladan! I have been looking for you for hours. Legolas found Estel earlier this afternoon…"

"Why did you not tell me!"

"I _am _telling you! But Dan…" Elrohir seized his twin's arm as Elladan started to walk again. "Something is very wrong. I saw Estel and Legolas. They were being hurt."

"Now?" Elladan felt his anger leave in rush. He knew that Elrohir had always been more sensitive to foresight than himself, though nowhere near their father's level. "That is what happened just now? You saw Estel and Legolas?" He felt his heart drop even as Elrohir nodded. Estel was being hurt… "Let's go."

With winged feet, the two elf lords flew through the village, hoping to reach their brother and friend before it was too late.

0-0-0-0

"Enough!" Halith roughly pushed his way through the cluster of men that surrounded Legolas' prone form. "We do not have time for this. The elf said they were meeting others here. It would be highly advantageous for us to be gone before they arrived."

Aragorn tried to pull away from the men holding him, his booted feet gouging the ground as he fought to make it to his friend's side. He could not see how bad the elf had been injured…but Legolas was not moving even as his tormentors drifted apart.

"You," Halith pointed at Aragorn, his voice steely. "You will be useful to me, one way or another. If you will not join us, I'm sure that the elves would love to have you back in one piece, so you will make a very good hostage."

Aragorn felt his heart clench. "You cannot be serious," he ground out between his teeth. "I am only a human. Why would the elves care what happens…"

"Strider," Halith cut him off, his tone gently chiding. "Do not think I am dense. I was there in Rivendell, remember? I saw you with the elves. It was your home. You were welcomed among them." A cruel smile twisted the older man's lips. "Almost as if you were one of their own. Trust me. They will do anything for you. And even if they won't," the smile broadened maliciously, "I'm sure that you can give us enough information to make this worth our while."

Guilt seared the young ranger. What had he done?

"Bring him," Halith told the two men holding Aragorn's arms. "Bind him tightly, and make sure he doesn't get away." The dark, cold eyes swept the trees. "Let's get out of here before the others show up."

"Wait!" Aragorn dug in his heels even as his captors started to pull him forward. "Wait! You cannot leave Legolas! He is hurt!"

"I have no interest in the elf," Halith said coldly. "He will be left as a warning for the others."

The calm, casual dismissal of Legolas' life pierced the young man like a spear. "NO!" He fought furiously, his only thought to break free and reach the fair elf's prone form. "NO!" Writhing, kicking and fighting, he almost tore his arms loose…

A third man landed a heavy blow to the back of his head. Dazed, Aragorn still fought on, but a second blow brought him to the ground.

As the world faded, the young ranger wept inside with bitter rage, helplessness, and guilt. It was all his fault! All his fault…Legolas…

0-0-0-0

"Legolas!" Elrohir hissed as a branch scratched a red line across his fair face. "Estel! Where are you?"

Nearby, he could hear Elladan calling out to their friend and brother, but the elder twin was apparantly having no more luck than he.

Having reached the meeting place and not finding either the Mirkwood prince or their errant younger sibling, the young elf lords had spread out through the woods, searching. Elrohir felt driven, the dark image he had endured seared into his mind. What if they were too late? "Legolas!" Every time he called and received no answer, he felt another pang of anxiety. Where could they be?

"Elrohir!" Elladan's voice pierced the distance, and the younger twin could hear the urgency that colored his brother's tone. "Elrohir, come quickly!"

Immediately changing direction, Elrohir raced towards Elladan's voice. Bursting through the undergrowth, he almost tripped over the elder twin's crouched form.

Elladan was on his knees, his face drawn into an expression of mixed grief and fury. "Legolas," he whispered, bending over the still figure of Mirkwood's prince. "Oh, Legolas…"

Elrohir could only stare for a moment in stunned horror. Then slowly he tore his gaze from the crumpled form of his friend, and scanned the clearing, his sharp grey eyes finally coming to rest on the trampled ground across from him, and the tracks that led away into the woods. Of his little brother, there was no sign, nothing but the feeling that this time, no matter what they did from here, it wouldn't matter.

"_Too late."_ Whispered a voice in his head. "_You were too late. He is gone, and you'll never see him again."_

With a soft cry the younger twin knelt beside his brother and friend, dropped his head into his hands and wept.

They had failed.

0-0-0-0

_Gwanor, mas le?-Brother, where are you?_

0-0-0-0

**Someone Reading-** Hey, nice to see you again, even if you only stepped out of lurker mode for a moment. :) Thank you as always for your wonderful review! You really know how to heap on the praise! I'm glad you are enjoying the story, and hope you like the other cliffies…I mean 'chapters' as they come out. :)

**QueenofFlarmphqal- ** /waves as queen is dragged away/ well, I'm certainly glad you enjoyed the last chapter so much, and I hope they let you have internet access in the mental institute. Everyone seemed to love Legolas being all protective. That makes me very happy, as I loved him all protective. The ranger whomping is coming up /checks storyline/ very shortly! Woohoo!…wow, that doesn't sound right. Oh well.:)

**Viggomaniac-**Okay, so this week I didn't hit EITHER of my deadlines, but I'm trying! Really, I swear! Anyhoo, glad you liked Legolas all protective and angry. Everybody just seemed to love him like that! I promise, there will be ranger whomping very soon here and it will be bad. For Aragorn. All the rest of us angst/torture/bloodthirsty lot will just love it. By the way, I read the story Shades of Fear. Very interesting.

**Stoneage Woman-** Don't worry, I don't INTEND to get any more graphic than Quietly Into the Night. The stuff with Legolas wasn't very bad, but Aragorn is going to get seriously whomped later on. :) When I said Legolas was 'hissing evilly' I meant it more to show just how angry he was, rather than to imply that he was actually being evil. Actually, I do make it a point to review every story that I like. Sometimes, that means that I don't read anything cause I know that I don't have time to review properly! But knowing how much I enjoy hearing how much people like my stories, I am eager to do the same for other authors.

**Saerwen-**I'm updating! I'm updating! See? Here's the chapter! Evil bad guys do tend to follow a pattern don't they? Try to kill them, but they always pop out when they are not wanted. (except, of course, by angst loving fanfiction readers.) /watches Saerwen break free from her chains/ oh dear. Well, it looks like the wardwraiths are about to have a lot to deal with…so I'm gonna run for my life. :) See you next post!

**Ainu Laire-** Um…sorry/grins evilly/ Well, not really, but I can pretend I'm sorry. :) What can I say? My muse lives off of cliffies. She's addicted to them.

**Evergreene- **Sorry about you being passed out…/shame faced grin/ Wow! Everybody just LOVED Legolas being all protective and angry! Thanks for saying you liked him snarling. I actually really liked that bit myself. :) Why sure I can explain what Halith is up to. You see, he's trying to /claps hand over own mouth/ mmmm mmm mmm /removes hand/ Good thing you're not holding your breath this week, as I am late AGAIN. Hopefully you enjoy it anyway though. :)

**Singingharp-** Ah, mellon nin! Glad to hear you enjoyed the last chapter and STAY AWAY FROM THAT CELL! Come on, how is my muse supposed to torture a ranger with hickies! It just doesn't have nearly the same dramatic effect. /sees singingharp's puppy dog eyes/ oh all right. But don't mark him up too bad. /watches as Singingharp squeals with glee and dives for the cell, yells from heros emerge shortly/ don't want to know, don't want to know don't want to know /peeks in/ I didn't know humans could bend like that…:) Anyhoo, thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you are enjoying the story. Your ranger whomping will be around shortly.

**SilentBanshee-** Hmmm. Shirtless, really angry Legolas…yummy. I mean…actually I DO mean yummy. :) You're right though. It's not QUITE as good as a P.O'd Thranduil. :) Next story. :):):)

**Nietta- **So glad to hear you love it! But you have exams! Yuck! Good luck! My sympathies. I went through my own not that long ago.

**Andromida-1971-** Hopefully you have not gone mad. :) Thank you for the positive feedback though, and here is your update!

**Iccle Fairy-** Yeah, Halith certainly did a quick change up. Kind of like Jack Sparrow, except he ended up on the wrong side. Not to worry about the lengthy absence, I'm just glad to see you again! It makes me so happy to have people coming back to read more of my odd little stories. :) I like Legolas all angry and protective, but you're right. I don't see him like that nearly enough.

**Alexandra-** I'm updating! I'm updating! Granted, not as soon as I could have been…but I'm trying! Thanks for the positive feedback!

**Deep Sorrow- ** No, I do not want a comprehensive list, and if I did want one, I would go to Shelly, not you. Anyway, thank you for the wonderful beta job, I love the paragraph you added. It gave the chapter a very angsty touch. Next chapter…Ranger whomping! A little bit anyway. Maybe only a few punches or so, but somewhere along those lines. See you then!

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**Okay, I can tell you that the next chapter is going to be out by Monday, but you all know me by now. So see you next Wednesday! (probably) Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! They really do encourage me to write faster, contrary to all appearances. :)**


	8. Decisions

I'm SO sorry! But I actually do have a kind of sort of good excuse for how late this is. About the time I was supposed to post this chapter, we had a major storm here and our power was blown out. Not that much of a problem, except it took everything I had written at the time with it. So I had to recreate and finish the chapter. Also this is one of those chapters that's just really hard to write. It gets us from whomping a to whomping b logically because everybody wants to be at whomping b, but they like to feel like there is a plot that brings them there naturally.

**In regard to the rumors I've heard about people having their stories pulled because of responding to reviews, I have checked over the rules for ff-net VERY carefully, and I have not found anything that would justify this. So I will still be responding. If my story ends up getting pulled because of it, I will set up a website of my own and post there.**

**So, now that I've babbled on, please do enjoy the story!**

0-0-0-0

He was floating on a wave of pain. With a gasp, Legolas' eyes shot open. White hot needles of agony raced across his rib cage as he struggled to breath. He could hear a familiar voice urging him to be calm, but paid it no heed. Where was Aragorn?

The pain was so intense it was making his vision blurry. A dark head leaned over him. Aragorn?

"Strider…"

"No, Legolas, it is I. Do you not recognize me?"

As his vision cleared slightly, Legolas saw the hair was too long (and too neat) to be Aragorn. "Elladan?"

"Closer, at any rate. It has been a long time since you confused me for my brother, oh prince."

Legolas groaned and shut his eyes again. Through the jesting tone of Elrohir's voice he could hear something disturbing. The twin was incredibly worried. For who? Where was Aragorn? Fear spiked through the fair elf's veins and his blue eyes flew open again with a snap. "_Mas na Estel_?" He gasped around the searing pain that enveloped his rib cage.

Elrohir avoided the prince's gaze, keeping his own eyes on the elf's many wounds. "Legolas, you need to rest."

Again, that underlying current to the twin's normally steady voice. Legolas could feel darkness creeping back around him. He wasn't going to be conscious much longer. Desperately, he tried to fight it off. He had to know what happened to his friend! "_Elrohir, mas na Estel_?"

But the raven haired elf would not answer. His grey eyes rested on Legolas' face and in the instant before the darkness rushed in to claim him, Legolas saw the agony that was threatening to tear Elrohir's heart into shreds. "Ro…"

0-0-0-0

Elrohir watched his friend sink back into unconsciousness. He drew a long shaky breath. A horrible choice stretched before himself and his brother. Legolas needed help. Much more than he or Elladan knew how to give. If he did not receive it, he would most likely die. The injuries he had sustained were grave. Given the apparent severity of the beating he had received, Elrohir was grimly surprised to discover that _any_ of the prince's ribs were unbroken, or at least uncracked on his left side. By falling curled as he had, Legolas had protected at least one side of his body. His left arm had been broken as well however, not to mention the nasty gash across his head. The fact that the fair elf had not been able to see clearly in the brief period of his waking made Elrohir extremely uneasy.

There was no doubt about it. Legolas needed Elrond's care.

But Estel…

Elrohir's eyes darted to the other side of the clearing where Elladan was pacing. The elder twin had discovered the tracks left by Halith's men. The marks at the edge of the undergrowth indicated a vicious, if short lived struggle, by someone to return to the side of the injured elf. The outcome was evidenced by a flattened area where said someone had fallen, and heavy prints pointed to him then being carried away.

Elrohir quickly came to a decision. Standing, he strode into the undergrowth, his gray eyes darting back and forth.

"Ro, what are you doing?" Elladan ceased pacing and stared after his brother as if the young elf lord had just gone insane. Which, he admitted to himself, might not be all that unlikely. Especially given their current circumstances. In fact, insanity might be one of the more attractive alternatives. It was better than facing their father at any rate. '_I'm sorry Ada, but not only did our brother, the Hope of Men, get kidnapped, the Prince and heir to Mirkwood's throne was beaten to death.'_ Elladan closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose taking in deep breaths. _One_ of them had to retain their senses, and at the moment it looked as though that responsibility was going to fall on his shoulders. Glaring enviously at his twin, Elladan repeated his question. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I am looking," Elrohir bent down and was lost amidst the shrubbery for a moment. "…for something like this," he finished triumphantly, straightening up with a piece of wood nearly his own height clenched in his hand.

Elladan felt both of his eyebrows raise. Stress. That was it. The stress of their situation had stolen his brother's mental faculties. "May I ask why…?"

"You might, but your time would be better spent looking for another piece of wood, as close to this size as may be." As he spoke, Elrohir was already continuing his search.

Deciding to humor him for the moment, Elladan cast a worried look at Legolas and quickly joined his brother. Within moments, he had found a good sized branch. Elrohir quickly took both pieces of wood. Retrieving his pack from where he had dropped it, the younger twin withdrew a length of rope and began to bind the wood together. With a sharp yank, he pulled the rope tight and used the slack to fashion a harness.

Catching on to what his brother was up to, Elladan swiftly yanked a blanket from his own pack and secured it between the two pieces of wood, forming a neat sled, or a handy conveyance for a wounded elf.

"One of us has to take him back," Elrohir said quietly, making sure his knots were strong.

"Of course." Elladan was already moving towards the prince, preparing to move him. "You take Legolas. I will go after Estel."

"Elladan…" Elrohir bit his lip in agony. He couldn't stand it. How could he abandon his brother? Yet he had seen the horrific injuries inflicted on his friend. If Legolas did not receive attention, he might die. Someone had to take the prince back to Rivendell.

Elladan turned at the sound of his name. His grey eyes were dark. Almost haunted. His fair features were tight. Abruptly, Elrohir was almost overwhelmed with a sense of failure. It was not his own, though he had been feeling the burden of guilt from the moment they discovered Legolas' beaten form.

The younger twin stared at his brother with a dawning sense of what Elrond's firstborn must be enduring. Elladan was the eldest, though only by a few minutes, and he had always taken his role very seriously. He held himself solely responsible for what had happened to Estel.

Elrohir sighed. As much as he did not wish to leave, for Legolas' sake, and Elladan's, he would. Without a word, the young elf lord turned his eyes back to his hands, rechecking the knots carefully.

There was a soft step. A pair of strong, slender hands fell over his own. Elrohir looked up and met his twin's gaze.

Elladan's eyes were burning fiercely. "I will find him, Elrohir. I will bring Estel home."

Elrohir forced a very hard smile onto his face. "I have no doubt." He saw Elladan's eyes stray back toward Legolas. A spasm flashed across the elder twin's face. Elrohir knew his brother felt the same agony that he himself fought. Friend, or brother? The young elf lord gripped Elladan's fingers tightly. "And I will make sure that Legolas gets to Imladris."

An echo of Elrohir's smile slid across Elladan's face. "I have no doubt."

Quickly, the elder twin turned to Legolas. Sliding his hands under his friend's wounded body, the dark haired elf lifted Mirkwood's prince as carefully as possible, doing all in his power to prevent jostling Legolas' many broken ribs.

Despite the gentleness of Elladan's touch, the blond elf moaned softly. A spasm of pain crossed his fair features. Elrohir winced as he saw it. This was going to be a long slow trip. He would have to be careful not to move too quickly with Legolas in this state.

Elladan settled their friend within the sling they had fashioned. Straightening, he stretched out a hand and helped Elrohir to his feet. The younger twin wordlessly held out the rope harness. With a nod, Elladan quickly slipped the rough hemp over Elrohir's shoulders, making sure that it was secure. "There," he said finally, stepping back.

For a moment, the two stared at each other. Elladan stretched out his hand and grasped his brother's shoulder. "All will be well." His tone brooked no argument. Grey eyes flashed as though daring someone to contradict him.

Despite his worry, Elrohir could barely conceal a smile as he pulled his twin into an embrace. "_Iston_."

0-0-0-0

Elrohir grunted softly. For one of the firstborn, it was amazing how heavy Legolas' inert body had become. Then again, perhaps it was just the fact that he was traveling so slowly that made it seem like he was towing a Mumak.

"Ro…"

"Legolas!" Elrohir shot a look back over his shoulder, his eyebrows knotting together in anxiety. The prince's eyes were open, but there was a disconcerting unfocused look to them that the young elf lord did not like. Gently, Elrohir slid the rope harness from his shoulders and lowered the sling to the ground. Kneeling at the fair elf's side he carefully checked the dressings wrapped around Legolas' rib cage. Dark hair swung forward into his eyes, but Elrohir did not notice. His attention was focused on his friend. The young elf lord bit his lip as Legolas moaned softly. He had set the fair elf's arm, and done his best for the archer's ribs. It was obvious, however, that the gash across the prince's forehead had caused a fair amount of damage. He needed Elrond's care. Elrohir remembered how long it had been since they had left Rivendell and swallowed hard.

0-0-0-0

Breathing was a torment. He could barely pull in enough air to keep himself alive before a stabbing pain forced him to release it. It felt as though his left side was on fire. He vaguely remembered turning on his side as the men beat him. Throwing up his arm to shield his head…

His arm hurt too. Horribly. Not nearly as badly as his head though…

In a daze, he watched Elrohir bend towards him. Legolas groaned and shut his eyes. The world was spinning. It made him dizzy to watch.

The fair elf cracked one blue eye open, hoping against hope that everything had settled. It had not. Elrohir was checking the bandages wrapped tightly around the prince's rib cage. Another dark haired elf knelt nearby…Elladan? "Dan?"

Elrohir looked up sharply. "What did you say?"

At the exact moment Elrohir's dark head turned towards him, so did the other elf's. Legolas shut his eyes again. Not Dan. He was seeing double. "Nothing, Ro. It was nothing."

"Legolas, look at me."

The fair elf did not want to. He didn't want to open his eyes again. Unwillingly, he did so. Elrohir was holding his hand in front of his face, the fingers outspread. "How many fingers do you see?"

Legolas tried to count them, he really did. But they kept moving… "Um…"

Elrohir sighed. "I was afraid of that."

Even as the dark haired elf spoke, his voice was fading. Legolas knew he was slipping back into unconsciousness. He tried to ask what had happened to Aragorn, but his tongue would not obey him. With a groan of frustration, the fair elf sank back into darkness.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir bit his lip as he watched Legolas' eyes lose focus and his lids drift shut. He was more worried than ever for his friend. Swiftly, the younger twin straightened and pulled the rope harness over his shoulders once more. Determination hardened his grey eyes. Legolas _would _make it back to Rivendell. He would see to it.

0-0-0-0

The sun had long ago sunk out of sight, and night's dark blanket covered the sky. The stars were pinpricks of light against the blackness, comforting Elrohir. Wearily, the dark haired elf traveled on, his light feet falling heavily with fatigue. Soon, he knew he would have to rest, or he might become careless and cause his friend pain inadvertently. For the moment, however, he pushed himself on. The best thing for Legolas would be to be back in Rivendell, with Elrond to see to his wounds.

Elrohir suddenly froze. Ahead he could see lights…fire! He chewed his lip anxiously. They might be friendly…or they might be orcs. The younger twin hastily drew the rope harness from his shoulders and pushed the sling along with Legolas into a deep portion of the shrubbery. He would be alright for a moment while Elrohir found out what was going on.

Stealthily, the younger twin crept forward, his eyes gleaming in the dark. The darkness of his hair melted into the shadows of the night, making him next to invisible. Forgetting his weariness in the surge of adreniline, his feet made absolutely no noise. One hand drifted to his belt and swiftly drew the dagger he kept there. If those around the the fire ahead _were_ unfriendly, it would be foolish to approach them unarmed.

'_Actually,'_ a little voice hissed from the back of his mind, '_it would probably be foolish to approach them at all._' Elrohir bared his teeth in annoyance. If he wanted to be lectured, he could always have stayed at home with Glorfindel.

The young elf lord's keen hearing could pick out the murmur of their voices now, though he was not close enough to hear what they were saying. A clear laugh suddenly rose in the still night air, and Elrohir felt a great wave of tension suddenly leave his body. Neither orcs nor men sounded so; only those of the _eldar_. Which meant that this company was most likely from Rivendell.

"_Mae govanen, mellyn nin,_" Elrohir called softly, resheathing his weapon. It was almost humorous how quickly the sound of voices ceased. Immediately, several figures leapt up from their places around the fire and dashed towards him. Within seconds, Elrohir was surrounded by several of Rivendell's warriors, all greeting him enthusiastically.

"Elrohir!"

"Where is Elladan?"

"Did you find Estel?

"Where have you _been_?"

Elrohir held up his hands, as though to push away the torrent of words aimed at him. "One at a time! And none at the moment. Do you have a healer amongst you?"

The elves stared at their young lord in horror. True, he looked as though he had crawled through a forest and brushed his hair with a pine branch, but there did not seem to be any great wound. However, for Elrohir (or Elladan…or Estel for that matter) to be asking for a healer, there must be some very serious injury.

"Not for I," Elrohir was quick to add, seeing their expressions. "Legolas is near here and he is badly hurt."

"Aye, my lord," one of the younger elves quickly turned and started back towards the fire. "There is a healer with us. I'll fetch him…"

"No," Elrohir halted him before he had taken more than a step. "That won't be neccesary. Just tell him to be prepared. I'll bring Legolas to the fire."

The elf nodded, darting away.

The heady feeling of hope lifted the young elf lord's spirits. Perhaps things were not so dark as he had thought… Elrohir swiftly pushed his way back through the forest growth, closely followed by two elves. Reaching down into the thick shrubbery, the young elf lord seized the rop harness and gently pulled Legolas into sight…

One of his companions gasped.

"Eru," Breathed the other. The elf's dark eyes sought Elrohir's gaze in the shadows. "What happened?"

Elrohir's mouth hardened into a grim line. "Something we did not anitcipate. Help me carry him."

0-0-0-0

Leaning his shoulders against a tree, Elrohir stared into the dancing flames. His grey eyes were blank, unfocused on what was before them. Though momentarily cheered at the realization that there was a healer amongst the party of Rivendell elves…the younger twin felt his spirits crash back down into a black pit when he saw the healer's face turn white upon catching sight of Legolas. The elf's reaction only reaffirmed Elrohir's own diagnosis. If Legolas was going to survive, he needed to be taken to Elrond.

And thinking of Elrond…

The dark haired elf slowly turned from the fire, fixing his gaze on the captain. An almost bitter smile twisted Elrohir's lips. As thankful as he was to see their warriors, he could not believe that his father had sent out a search party so quickly after he and Elladan had left. It wasn't like him. Protective Elrond might be, but he trusted the twins. Of course, the patrol _did_ have horses, so they would have been traveling quite a bit faster…and it still did not add up. Elrohir frowned. Normally, their father would not have sent a search party after them until they had been missing for three weeks, at the least. Which meant that they should have been leaving Rivendell sometime early that morning.

"Elrohir?" A hand landed on the young elf lord's shoulder.

The younger twin jerked, so lost in his own thoughts he had not realised someone was addressing him. "Areste," he gasped. "do not startle me like that."

"My apologies, _mellon nin_," the healer murmured, sinking into a crouch beside the raven haired being. There was an anxious look in the elf's green eyes that Elrohir did not like.

"What is it?"

Areste swallowed. "I can't do anything more for the prince, Ro. At least not here. I have to get him back to Imladris. Those ribs…I'm afraid if I can't get them set soon, some piece will puncute his lungs, and he could drown in his own blood before we even knew it"

Elrohir swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly going very dry.

"Fortunately, we're close, so there shouldn't be too much damage from travel…"

Surprised, Elrohir stared at his friend as though the elf had suddenly declared he would like to start a society for the prevention of cruelety to orcs. "Areste, what are you talking about?" _Close?_ "We are weeks out from home."

Now it was Areste's turn to stare. "Elrohir…we left this morning. We are barely a days ride from your father's house."

Elrohir stood abruptly, his face pale. All of a sudden, things crashed together in his mind. They had been following Estel's trail for so long, he had not thought to check _direction_ or bearing… all the villages they had visited, instead of going North as he had thought they had for the past few weeks, were on the circumference of a very large circle. A circle he, Elladan, and Legolas had traipsed. He gasped slightly as he realised that _none_ of the villages had been more than a days journey from Rivendell. They had left the valley traveling to the North, and now the trail Elladan followed was headed due South. Even more disturbing, Elrohir realised that the terror they had seen was not a problem that grew worse they further they traveled from home. It was at their doors. It was all around them.

"My lord?" Areste stumbled to his feet, ungraceful in his surprise. "What is it?"

"Take Legolas to my father," Elrohir said sharply. Striding across the clearing, the young elf lord whistled and gestured, bringing two of the horses trotting towards him. A graceful leap, and he was astride one's broad back. "I am sorry, Areste, but I must borrow the horses."

"Of course," was all the young healer could think to say, so surprised was he. Numbly, he watched in disbelief as Elrohir whispered something in his steed's ear, then turned to the horse alongside him and murmured something in elvish. "Elrohir! Wait…what do you want me to tell your father?"

"Tell him I am going to fetch Estel." The fierce glint of Elrohir's grey eyes took his friend by surprise. Normally, Elrohir was the gentler of the twins. Noticing Areste's alarm, the young elf lord paused. "Tell him not to worry, Areste. I am going to meet Elladan, and we will bring Estel home safely." His eyes darted towards the base of the tree where Legolas lay. "Take care of Legolas."

0-0-0-0

He could hear voices swirling around his ears. They were fair, elvish voices. The sounds of elf folk, and the smell of trees. Was he in Mirkwood? No. That could not be. The trees here smelled green, and new.

"Take Legolas to my father."

Elrohir's voice. Who was he talking to? Legolas forced his eyes open. His vision swayed and twisted sickeningly, but the fair elf made himself bear it. He could hear the thud of hoofbeats against the ground. Through distorted eyes, he saw Elrohir swing himself onto a horse. Where was he going? He was leaving!

No! No, he could not leave!

"Ro..." The word was a faint whisper, and brought a stab of pain to his ribs, even as he forced it past his lips. He could not be left behind again… "Ro!" Still, his voice was not even loud enough to be heard over the fire's snapping.

Without being told, Legolas knew where the younger twin was going. He was heading after Aragorn. Frustration built up within the fair elf's lissom frame. Elrohir was going after Aragorn and _he _was being left behind! Ignoring the pain that threatened to make him black out, the golden prince slowly began to push himself up into a sitting position. No one stopped him. All eyes were focused on Elrohir.

"Tell him I am going to fetch Estel."

Legolas was tacken aback at the ferocity in Elrohir's voice. He could not force his failing vision to bring the twin's features into distinction, but he heard the fierceness of his tone clearly. "Elrohir," he whispered. He wanted to go with the young elf lord. He had failed Aragorn once…he needed to make sure his friend was safe…

"Take care of Legolas."

No!

The horses were leaving. Legolas ground his teeth, tears of pain and frustration welling up in his eyes.

"My prince, what are you doing!"

Gentle, yet firm hands pressed against his shoulders, pushing him onto his back. "You should not be up, you will disturb your ribs and Valar only know how much they can take."

Legolas made a feeble attempt to push away the hands, but nearly cried out as he shifted his left arm. With ill grace he allowed himself to be put down. A small part of him, (the sensible part, he reluctantly admitted) knew that what Elrohir was doing made perfect sense. He was badly wounded. He would only slow the twin down. It would not do Elrohir any good to have an invalid to watch over as he tried to rescue Aragorn.

The other, irrational, part of the prince's mind wept bitterly. He had failed to protect his friend. And he was being left behind.

The pain in his heart melded with the agony coursing through his body, and as the blackness rushed up to claim him again, Legolas' last thought was a fervid prayer that his friend would escape from harm, and, failing that, at least manage to survive. Somehow.

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Mas na Estel?-Where is Estel? 

_Mae govannen, mellyn nin.- Well met, my friends._

_Mellon nin- My friend._

_Iston- I know_

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Stoneage Woman- Glad to hear you are enjoying the story. :) Why is Elrohir the only one who gets premonitions? Well, Elrond gets em too, but mostly (in this story anyway) it's because the storyline is centered on the twins and Aragorn and Legolas, and to me, Elrohir is kind of the more sensitive and gentler twin, so he gets the visions. But that's just my take on the twins. 

**QueenofFlarmphqal- **Hey, I love ranger whompage too! Woohoo! Glad you liked the twin angst and such in the last chapter. I too love to make our heros suffer…that sounds so horrible, doesn't it? Yet we all know it's true. Nothing makes me happier than a story chock full of angst, torture, and all around emotional distress. : ) It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Well we didn't have ranger angst in this chapter (in fact, we didn't have a ranger,) but don't worry, the next chapter will more than make up for the lack of Aragorn Angst. /evil snickering/

**Singingharp-** Well by now I guess I'm down to about a chocolate Legolas toenail, huh? Sorry! I really meant to get this chapter out before now, honest! Anyway, thanks for your support, buddy. You're much awaited and long sought after ranger whomping should be up in the next chapter. And it's gonna be baaaaaaaaaaad. I know that will put a smile on your face. :)

**Saerwen-** /PIA emerges from behind ratty brown couch/ I'm updating! I'm updating! Good grief this chapter was a long time in coming! And a long time to hide behind that couch…/spits out several dust bunnies/ but anyway, here is the chapter, I hope you enjoy it, and in the next installment, we will have the long awaited torture and such. /PIA destroys her image as poor innocent authoress as she cackles evilly herself/ oooooh, look at the lightning…/evil grin/

**Ainu Laire-** Aragorn is about twenty-three in this story, so yes, he has discovered his heritage. And thank you! Oh wait, were you tellin me _I_ was evil, or calling the bad guys evil? Well, either way, thanks very much.:) Hey, evil is a compliment on this website. True, by the end of the story, the bad guys will have wished they had made sure everyones favorite elf was quite deceased. :) fortunately for Legolas, bad guys aren't very future oriented. They don't always do what's best for them. ;)

**Andromida 1971**- Thank you! Glad you liked the chapter so much. Don't worry, by the end of the story the bad guys will deserve a much bigger beating than they do now…/evil grin/

**Evergreene- /**blushes/ Thank you sooooooo much! It is so encouraging to get positive feedback. :) Yeah, poor Legolas. He's not having a lot of fun in this story. Neither is Aragorn. But Aragorn's part is about to get much, much worse…/evil grin/

**Iccle Fairy-** What do you mean no fair ending it there? I'm pretty sure it's in my contract to end all my chapters on heinous cliffies. /pulls out ten foot long piece of paper covered in teen tiny writing/ See? It says it somewhere around three feet down. :) Sorry about how long it took to get this out though. Hopefully, this is the last late chapter.

**Viggomaniac- **I'm still here, I swear! I haven't dropped off the face of the earth or been abducted by aliens…well, maybe abducted by aliens, but they brought me right back. Anyway, sorry about the lengthy posting date. This chapter was…difficult…to say the least. Halith is indeed a nasy villain, but also quite intelligent. Me and my beloved sibling beta decided that a smart villain was the way to go for a good story, and it's nice to hear that you think so too. :) Glad you liked the elf whomping. Elf whomping is some of my favorite…but I know that you prefer the Ranger whomping, and just to make you very happy, there should be a LOT of it in the next chapter. And I do mean a lot. It will be…intense. That makes people around here so happy when I say stuff like that. I think We're all a little bloodthirsty. :)

**Dueser**- I made YOU sob/skips off singing Oh Happy Day/ Okay, I'm back. Wow. You made my day, buddy! Honestly, I was thrilled to receive not only this review, but also the reviews for the other chapters that you did not get to read whilst you were out of the country. (glad you are back safe, by the way) No, I don't think you would be wanting to cuddle a dead elf lord, but if it makes you feel better, he's already died once and come back…so maybe it could happen again…

**Arrana Undomiel**- Yes, Estel is in VERY big trouble. /evil grin/ and it's so natural for him, isn't it? Of course Estel will outsmart his captors…oh wait…I'm looking at the storyline for the LAST story. Let me check this one…um…ouch…:) but I can't give away the ending. Heh heh heh. However rest assured in the knowledge that everything will get much worse before it gets better. Wait, that doesn't sound right…:)

**Deep Sorrow-** Well…that was…disturbing, yet strangely appealing. Kind of like the Hamsterdance song, but without the hamster and more disturbing. Well here I am! Posting at long long last! (Legolas) Long long long last. (Estel) Long long long long last. (Twins) long long long long long long long long … (me)yeah, yeah, you all suck. Shut up. Anyhoo, thank you for all the encouragment (Legolas) nagging…(Estel) prodding…(Twins) Ceaseless torment…(Me) Who is writing this response? Me or you? Shut up! And for putting up with my uninspired self. (Legolas) you mean lazy…(Estel) Slacking…(Twins) Sarah L. Like attitude…(Me) Okay, that does it. /crosses room and prepares to unlatch violently shaking crate./ do you know what's in here? (legolas, looking nervous) there's drool coming out the side. (Estel, with a touch of panic) screams are coming from within. (Elladan) she wouldn't…(Elrohir) she did…. (Me) /throws back head and laughs evilly as I unlatch the crate and release my muse/ Ha! Now what! Take that you annoying little…/ignores screams and wails as muse hurlse herself at heros/ anyway, I can't wait till the next chapter/calls after muse/ You hear that? Save a little bit of them for the next chapter!

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**Well there we go! Next chapter should be here in the usual week barring any unforseen delays. Reviews are treasured! And remember, next chapter is ranger whomping, it will be slightly intense for any who don't like that kind of thing. /crickets chirping/ Yeah, yeah, I know. Nobody like that in THIS place. Just thought I'd throw in a warning to be on the safe side. **


	9. False Trails

**Okay, I don't know what is wrong with me! I have never had such a horrible track record for posting with ANY of my other stories! My apologies. Man, if I keep this up I may have to cut back on the cliffies…but then, if I did that, nobody would really care about looking for the next chapter and y'all would probably just give up on my altogether. Hmmm. Maybe I'll just kick my lazy rear into gear and make myself write. /cheers from reviewers/ Okay, well I left the last chapter with Legolas very injured, Elrohir very unhappy, Elladan very guilt stricken, and Aragorn very unconscious. Let's see what happens next!**

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Aragorn groaned softly. Where was he? And how on earth had he fallen asleep in such a hideously uncomfortable position? It felt as though he were bent double over a tree branch, his head, arms and legs dangling freely. Blood pounded in his ears from hanging upside down. The young ranger shifted, trying to bring his arms up so he could push himself free.

The arms would not move correctly. It felt as though they were attached to each other somehow…Prying his silver eyes open at last, Aragorn glanced down at his wrists as they dangled below his head. They were bound together. Looking down farther still, (and making himself quite dizzy doing so) he could see boot heels striding steadily…

So it was not a tree branch. He was slung over someone's shoulder like a sack of meal.

The heavy stride of the human caused Aragorn's head to bounce off the man's broad back. The young ranger nearly blacked out once more. His head was already aching from the blow he had received, and the blood rushing to his face was making him feel quite ill. How had he come to be in this very bad position? Confusion reigned as he sought to make sense of his current predicament. He remembered entering the town…being captured…a cell…he was to be hanged…Legolas… Legolas! A stream of Sindarin profanity spewed from the young man's mouth as memories came rushing back with the force of a tidal wave.

The man carting him came to an abrupt halt. Aragorn heard him calling for Halith. That only made the dark haired ranger curse more vehemently. He had been betrayed! And what was worse, what was infinitely, horribly worse, was that he had dragged his friend down with him. Aragorn remembered Legolas' limp, broken body and the ill feeling he felt intensified.

A pair of boots came into the young ranger's inverted sightline. Halith's dry voice reached his ears. "So, you've finally decided to join the land of the living, have you?"

There was a whirl of movement, and the man carting Aragorn heaved him to the ground. Landing with a heavy 'thud', Aragorn gasped as the wind left his lungs quickly. For a few minutes, all he could do was glare up at his former 'friend,' and focus on breathing. "_Huanion,_" he finally spat, his silver eyes blazing. "_Orch morore agarwaen!_"

Halith looked amused, his dark eyes glinting in the light of the stars. "Such venom. Is this how you speak to all your friends?"

"You betrayed me!"

"Of course I did, little fool." A secret smile curled the corners of Halith's mouth. "I have a much more important master to serve than any bond of fellowship. After all, will friendship make one wealthy? I think not. I did give you a chance to join me, Strider, in fact," he sighed as though in deep regret, "I tried many times to win your loyalty."

Aragorn struggled to his knees and pushed himself to his feet with difficulty. Several of Halith's thugs stepped forward to stop him, but Halith waved them back, an amused look on his weathered face. The young ranger did not appreciate being an object of amusement. "Why did you do this?" he asked, his voice sharp. "Why the charade of saving my life…" a sudden flash of insight enraged him… " …when it was _you_ who had me arrested in the first place! Was it not?"

"As I told you," Halith shrugged, "I have been trying to win your loyalty." He laughed softly. "Tell me, would you not have been infinitely grateful to a man who had saved your life? Of course you would have. It has something to do with honor…I wouldn't know about such a thing from firsthand experience, but I make it a point to be well informed on such weaknesses." An ugly look crossed the older man's face suddenly. "And if that _elf_," he spat the word as though it was a curse, "had not interfered, it would have worked perfectly." Halith glowered at his captive for a few minutes, then shrugged. "It matters not. I have you. I doubt that you will be enough to force the elves from their home…"

Blood drained from Aragorn's face. "What?" he croaked. "What madness has possessed you?"

"The elves, Strider. My master wants them gone. They're in the way." The elves obviously think much of you; I saw as much when I was in your home. I had thought to use you as a kind of ransom…"

"You are insane." Aragorn shook his head in disbelief. "The elves will not be driven out for one person."

Halith continued as if the young ranger had not spoken. "But then I realized that you would probably not be enough. No Lord would sacrifice the good of the many for that of the one. However, given your knowledge of their valley, I am sure that anything you have to tell us would be very useful when we attack and drive them out."

Several seconds passed in a deep and terrible silence. Aragorn stared at the man before him in horror. "Do you honestly think…" he almost couldn't continue as his rage rose within him, nearly choking him in its' intensity. The image of Legolas' injured body left alone in the middle of the forest floated through his mind…

Forgetting any rational thought, Aragorn leapt forward, intent on wrapping his hands around Halith's throat. Apparently, the older man did not expect such a violent action from his captive. He was borne to the ground underneath Aragorn's weight. The two hit the forest floor with a thud, Halith on the bottom. Aragorn pressed his advantage as quickly as he could, placing his bound hands at Halith's throat and squeezing as hard as he could. Unfortunately for the young ranger, though the older man was surprised, he regained his bearings extremely quickly, and he was not hampered by any rope around _his_ wrists.

Halith's fist shot upwards, hitting Aragorn squarely in the face. The ranger was thrown backwards by the force of the blow. His ears were ringing and something warm was flowing from his nose. Blood. Ignoring the pain, Aragorn threw himself forward, bulling into Halith with his shoulder as the weathered man tried to rise. Once again, Aragorn had a momentary advantage. He doubled up his fists, preparing to bring both of them down on his opponent's face…

Strong arms caught hold of his shoulders, jerking him backwards. His arms were being crushed in the grip of two men. Probably the same two that had held him back from helping Legolas. The very thought made Aragorn struggle wildly.

Halith rose to his feet, an unpleasant glitter in his dark, cruel eyes. Aragorn snarled at him defiantly. One of the men holding him struck the ranger, but even as he pulled his arm back to hit him again, Halith halted him.

"Enough! We need him to be able to walk. Unless one of you feels like carrying him all night long?" He turned his gaze back onto his captive. "But don't think I've forgotten this, Strider. You'll tell me everything I need to know, eventually. And you'll scream for me to finish you before the end." With that dark promise, Halith stalked away, leaving his men to follow with the very unwilling Aragorn.

0-0-0-0

The night's dark blue was fading towards the grey of early dawn. Morning doves were waking within the shadows of the trees, their soft voices a delicate harmony.

The dark haired elf that raced beneath them took no notice of their song, however. His breath came in sharp gasps. Sweat beaded his forehead. He had been running all night, and a good portion of the day before. Finally, he came to a halt, leaning against a tree as he tried to steady his breathing. It would not do his brother any good if he showed up unable to battle.

And yet, he could not outrun or reason with the demon that plagued his thoughts. _It's all your fault,_ the voice hissed within his mind. _You did not protect him. He will die because of your neglect…Legolas will die…it is all your fault…_

Elladan groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. Guilt tore at him without mercy. Estel was in danger. He had failed to protect his little brother. Legolas had been injured.

Remembering his friend's broken body, Elladan winced.

_It is all your fault._

"No," Elladan hissed. His legs trembled with fatigue. He tried to start walking, but his knees buckled. They would not carry him any further without a rest. The young elf lord allowed himself to slide down the trunk of the tree. Dark strands of hair floated around his face, having come loose from his normally neat braids.

Fierce gray eyes focused on the trail he had been following since he had parted from his twin the day before. A grim sigh shook his slender frame. During the night, he had suddenly noticed what direction he was being led. Now he cursed himself for several different kinds of a fool not to have noticed before.

_It is all your fault._ _You did not protect him. Estel will die…_

"No!" Elladan pushed himself shakily to his feet, ignoring the screams of protest that rose from his overworked muscles. With grim detirmination, the elder twin set out once more.

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Halith held up a hand, bringing his men to a halt. They were more than happy to oblige. All through the group eyes were drooping with weariness. Aragorn could hear the heavy breathing of more than one individual. Halith had pushed them hard, and for a long time. The young ranger knew why…and he cursed the man for being so intelligent. Halith knew that even with Legolas left behind, it would not be long before he had elves on his trail. He had seen Elladan and Elrohir in action. Only a very stupid individual would hang about with the prospect of those elven warriors close behind him.

Several men were emerging from the foliage in front of them. Aragorn's eyes narrowed. He had know they were there of course. Though good, these men could not hope to hide themselves from elven trained eyes. But he had to wonder what they were there for…

Perhaps, a guard of some kind? The silver eyes widened. Of course. They were guards…just as there were troops posted around the perimeter of Imladris' borders. The realization sent an unpleasant thrill down the young man's spine. He was about to cross into the enemies' territory.

And his brothers would follow.

A tight knot of guilt quickly rose in Aragorn's throat. His brothers would come after him, he knew. They would march boldly into any danger for his sake. Tears stung his eyes for a brief moment. He had been such a fool. He had taken the sacrifice of their love and care and spat on it, as though it was unworthy of his attention.

And now, he was putting those who cared for him in danger.

Halith was speaking to the newcomers, gesturing towards Aragorn. As the young man watched in confusion, the guards quickly formed a circle around Halith's group, stamping heavily until their boot tracks mingled with those of the other men and it became impossible to distinguish one from the other. Without a word, they began to walk away, still treading as heavily as possible, leaving a trail a blind man could follow.

Halith gestured to his own group sharply, and they continued on their way. But to Aragorn's horror, two of the party dropped back and began to cover the trail carefully, something they had not done until now. They meant for his brothers to follow the other group. The young ranger felt his mouth go dry with sudden fear. Elladan and Elrohir wouldn't be looking for a concealed trail when nothing had been concealed before. They would follow the obvious tracks…perhaps into a trap. He could not allow it to happen. Yet how to prevent it? He was not in the best strategical position at the moment. A hard push in the small of his back reminded him of this sharply as he stumbled, landing face first in the dirt. An idea flashed through his mind.

Without stopping to think, he acted on the impulse.

Ian reached a rough hand down and caught the collar of Aragorn's worn overcoat, hauling the young man to his feet. The ranger bit his lip nervously. He knew that his brothers would spot what he had done…or at least he desperately hoped so. But would the group of humans be so keen sighted?

They were pushing him along, keeping him moving…Aragorn looked back over is shoulder at the two covering their trail. As they stepped towards the place where he had fallen he held his breath…

They did not see it.

The silver eyes lit up. He would of course, try to leave more clues as they went on, but the fact that his first had not been noticed made him almost cheerful.

Behind the group, the green glint of Barahir shone in the dirt where it lay, half buried.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir saw his brother before Elladan knew he was there. The younger twin quickly tapped his heels against his horse's flanks, urging the animal forward.

Elladan whirled as the sound of hoofbeats reached his keen ears. His hand was flying to his sword, but stopped midway as he realized whom was riding toward him. "Elrohir? What are you doing here?" A pang of panic passed swiftly across his face. "Where is Legolas?"

"Safe amongst our own warriors," Elrohir reassured him, pulling his horse to a halt alongside his twin. The steed he had brought along for Elladan halted as well, pushing his nose against the elder twin in a vain quest for apples. Elladan fended him off weakly, still staring at his brother in amazement.

"Our warriors," he repeated softly. "_Ada_ sent them after us?"

Elrohir nodded grimly. He knew without speaking that Elladan had realized the truth about the trail they had followed for weeks. He knew exactly how close they were to their home. "_Tolo, gwanor nin. Noro roch lin. Met uva utuv Estel._"

Elladan jerked his head in a short nod, and without a word, swung himself up onto his horse's broad back.

The two elf lords rode on, their dark hair glinting in the sunlight, like the back of raven's wings.

0-0-0-0

Halith ground his teeth together in frustration. "Get up!" His boot nudged the young ranger less than gently in the ribs. What was wrong with Strider? Ever since they had crossed into Daeion's territory the boy was tripping and falling at the slightest push. Odd for one who had been so surefooted. Even more odd was the expression on his stubbly face every time he rose. The silver eyes glinted with something like…triumph?

Halith scowled, etching deeper lines into his already worn face. This was bizarre. Was one of the men tripping the ranger when he wasn't looking?

Ian pulled Strider to his feet, snarling as he did so. The big man was also growing tired of their captive's new found clumsiness.

Still musing inwardly, Halith found himself staring at the ground where Strider had fallen. His dark eyes lit on a small object, half hidden amid the dirt and leaves, but very obviously not belonging there. He bent, scooping it up. It was a button.

A sour taste rose in the man's mouth. Of course, it could be entirely coincedental that the dark haired ranger would lose a button when he fell. The worn state of his coat suggested that a button could easily be detatched. And yet…Halith could not forget the glint of triumph he saw lurking in those silver eyes every time the young man was pulled back to his feet. A triumph that was there, despite the bruises he endured from being kicked when down.

"Hold." Halith's voice was cold, and hard. Immediately, his men stopped moving. Seething, Halith marched towards Ian, his fist clenched around the button. Strider's eyes widened as he saw the elder man draw near. He, at least, knew that something was very wrong.

All doubt fled from his mind as Halith allowed his cruel eyes to drift over the young ranger's form. There was not only one button missing from his coat, but several. A length of lacing was missing from both boots. Halith reached out and roughly jerked back the collar of the young man's overcoat.

He had even torn pieces from the inner lining. All dropped along their path like little bread crumbs, leading the elves after them. With a snarled curse, Halith backhanded his captive viciously.

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Aragorn was not taken by surprise. He knew that the blow would be coming the moment he saw Halith stalking towards him, a murderous look in his cold, cruel eyes. Despite the pain, the young ranger could not help but smile. No matter what happened now, Halith would not have time to go back and search for all the little clues he had left for his brothers to find. And once the elves had discovered the covered trail they would be able to track their brother no matter how well the humans tried to conceal their path.

If they discovered the hidden trail. This was the only flaw in Aragorn's plan, and he was worried. If Elladan and Elrohir did not look closely, they would follow the false trail.

Another blow to his face brought him back to the present. Halith was furious. The elder man's face was twisted with rage…and fear. It gave Aragorn no little pleasure to see that fear. Halith was afraid of what would happen if the elves caught up with them. As well he should be. Aragorn had seen his brothers when they were enraged. It still gave him nightmares.

"Been leaving hints, Strider?" Halith asked, his voice deceptively soft. "For your little elf friends?"

No matter what answer he gave, he was going to be hit. Aragorn could see it in Halith's face. So if avoiding a beating was impossible…an obnoxious grin split the ranger's stubbly face. "I am surprised you had the brains to see it."

Ouch.

Aragorn shook his head, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears. The older man had a surprisingly strong fist.

"How many of these little clues did you leave?" Halith shook the hand holding the button under Aragorn's nose.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Aragorn asked coldly. "You do not have enough time to go back and try to find them all." A grim smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was something infinitely satisfying about infuriating his captor. Halith raised his fist again…but did not strike. With what appeared to be a supreme effort of self control, the older man restrained himself.

"Drug him," Halith snapped sharply at Ian. "We can't have him leaving anything else."

A damp cloth was pressed over Aragorn's mouth and nose. He smelled something sharply unpleasant…then everything faded away.

0-0-0-0

Dusk was falling. Elladan brought his horse to a halt sharply, his gray eyes scanning the forest floor closely. What had happened here? The ground was a mishmash of heavy boot prints. It looked as if the humans had invited a troup of orcs to come clog dance. As that was probably not the case, the elder twin became wary.

Elrohir's forehead wrinkled as he stared at the ground. The tracks did not make any more sense to him than they did to his brother. It was entirely possible that Halith had brought his men to a halt and this is where they had camped, explaining the many footprints crossing and recrossing each other. However, all evidence suggested that the despicable man had pressed his group along hard up until this point. Why would he stop when he had to know that there would be elves on his trail? It did not make sense.

"The trail continues on heading in that direction," Elladan pointed east, but his eyes were still on the ground. His eyebrows were drawn close together as he pondered the mystery before him.

Elrohir shook off the feeling of unease. "Then let us go." Without another word, he kicked his heels into his steed's side. The horse shot off along the trail, leaving Elladan to follow. The older twin was still frowning as he rode after his brother, however.

Behind them, the last rays of the setting sun were caught in Barahir's green gem, glinting unnoticed on the forest floor.

0-0-0-0

His head was pounding. A strong feeling of nausea was rising in his throat. Aragorn swallowed hard. Whatever the drug was he had been given, he did not care for it overly much. His cheek was pressed against cold stone. Smooth. Not a rock, this was part of a paved walkway or a floor. A dull tingling in his hands let him know that they were very firmly asleep, tied together and crushed under his chest.

"How much longer is he going to sleep?"

"The potion should wear off soon, sir."

Aragorn quickly decided to keep his eyes closed. He did not recognize the first voice, but the second was Halith's. Who was Halith referring to as 'sir'? Perhaps he would learn more if he feigned unconsciousness for a little longer.

"You had better be right about this."

"Even if the elves are unwilling to leave for the sake of his life, the boy has obviously lived among them. He knows all about them. He's been trained by them. I've seen his skills at tracking. Nobody is that good."

"Except the elves?"

"Exactly. It's a good thing it was him and not an elf we took along with us. He knew something was wrong with that phony campsite we set up, but I don't think he could put his finger on what. An elf would have seen through it."

"So his knowledge of them should be extensive."

"All we have to do is persuade him to yield it."

_Never!_ Aragorn's rage burst within him. He would never betray his family! With difficulty, the young ranger forced himself to lie still. There might be something of use he could glean from this conversation as long as they thought he could not hear them…

"What if he will not talk? Have you considered that?"

"I have. When the elves brought us into their valley, I kept my eyes open. They really are almost ludicrously unprotected. At least, that's how it looked. I want to make sure that's how it truly is before I rush in."

_Unprotected? Was the man deaf, blind, and stupid?_ For once, Aragorn agreed with the little voice bellowing from somewhere inside his skull. There were guards all through the trees! They were everywhere, especially around the border. Of course, they only showed themselves when there was need…

Aragorn nearly gasped. That was it. Of course Halith wouldn't know that there were elven warriors watching his every movement as he entered Rivendell. The human had entered with Elladan, Elrohir, and himself. The guards would never challenge anyone accompanied by Lord Elrond's sons. Of course, if the man tried to cross the border on his own, he would find a much different reception.

Halith believed Rivendell to be unprotected. If the man mounted any kind of attack against the elven refuge, he would be woefully unprepared. The thought was strangely comforting.

"I think he's stirring."

Aragorn winced as he felt the toe of a boot nudge him none to gently in the ribs. "Are you awake yet?" The boot hooked itself under his shoulder and pushed, rolling the young ranger onto his back. The rush of blood to his hands made Aragorn groan, grimacing as he felt the tingling pins and needles pain. Slowly, he allowed his silver eyes to flutter open. It would do him no good if they suspected he had heard any of their conversation…

Halith's weathered faced leered down at him. "So glad to see you again, Strider."

Aragorn hissed softly between his teeth, letting the older man know that he in no way reciprocated the feeling. His silver eyes blazed from behind the strands of dark hair thrown across his face.

"Have you no manners, Strider? It's not polite to meet your host while lying on the floor…" As he spoke in his mocking tone, Halith reached down and jerked his captive to his feet, keeping a firm hold of his elbow.

Though he hated to admit it, Aragorn was grateful for the extra support. His legs were weak and shaky from whatever they had drugged him with. He did not want to shame himself by falling face first onto the floor. Quickly, the young ranger sent his eyes flitting around the room, taking stock of where he was. What he saw did not fill him with a great deal of comfort. It was obviously a holding cell. The walls and floor were thick stone, and there were no windows. Several hooks hung from the walls, chains dangling from them. A table stood against the wall, several tools lying on it. Aragorn did not want to think of what things those tools would be used for.

"Strider, may I introduce you to Daeion."

The man standing before him could not have been more than five feet tall. He was slender, and slightly built, and yet when Aragorn met his eyes, he was reminded of nothing so much as a snake. Cold. Evil. Black pools that held a calculating intelligence. The man's mouth curled as if he could guess what the young ranger though of him, and was amused by it. He was dressed in fine clothes, the clothes Aragorn would have expected to see on a noble, not a thief that preyed on the fears of men.

Cold disdain radiated from the dark haired ranger. He could not have been more contemptuous of the man before him if he tried.

The smile on Daeion's face disappeared as though it had never been. "So," he said softly, "I am told that you have lived among the elves in the valley…Strider. That's not your real name, is it?"

"I have none other to give." None that he would supply this man with at any rate… A shudder coursed through his body at the thought of this man holding the knowledge of his heritage.

"Strider it is then." Daeion shrugged his slender shoulders, as though it was of no importance, but Aragorn caught the brief flash of annoyance in the black eyes. This was a man who was not used to being crossed, and violent things might happen if he were pushed too far. The young ranger tucked away this shrewd observation with the accompanying resolution to push the man as far as possible. _Stupid_, hissed the voice that sounded like Elladan. _SO stupid!_ However, Aragorn reasoned, nothing he had done so far in his life had been UN-stupid, and he was still alive. _I can't argue with that,_ the voice admitted grumpily, _but I feel like I should._

"I am prepared to offer you a deal," Daeion said softly. His eyes were narrowed, watching the ranger closely. "If you tell me what you know of the elves' defenses I will give you riches. I may even let you take a position in my band."

_As what? A thief and murderer? A betrayer of family and friends? As if I haven't done enough damage!_ The sickening image of Legolas' still form flashed before his eyes. "Never."

"Consider carefully your position…"

"There is nothing to consider," Aragorn cut him off abruptly. "I will never tell you what you want to know." _Or if I tell you anything, I will confirm what you think you already know, then laugh heartily as you are demolished._

Daeion sighed softly. "I though you might say as much. However, we have other means of convincing you." The slender man strode towards the table and lifted a curious object from the wooden surface. At first glance, it did not seem particularly harmful. A thin, flexible wand of some type of wood. Then the young ranger noted the row of sharp looking spines traveling its length. Daeion held it out, carefully avoiding piercing his fingers on the spines. "Do you know what this is, Strider?"

Aragorn simply pressed his lips together tightly, unwilling to let this man know of the uneasy curling in the pit of his stomach. The malicious way Daeion's eyes traveled from the wand to the young ranger made Aragorn feel distinctly uneasy.

Halith released Aragorn for a moment, stepping to the door and gesturing sharply to someone outside. Within moments, Ian and another large man stepped in. Their brutish faces lit up when they saw the object in Daeion's hands.

"You'll forgive me if I do not remain," Daeion said in a lofty voice, handing the wand to Halith. The slender man looked over his shoulder as he was about to exit, and there was no mistaking the evil gleam of pleasure in his eyes. "I abhor bloodshed."

The door closed with a very final 'click.'

Halith jerked his head towards Aragorn. "Take his shirt."

The moment Ian laid a thick ham sized hand on Aragorn the ranger lashed out with his foot, catching the big man behind his knee. With a howl of pain, Ian crashed to the floor. The other man leapt forward with a roar, fists raised. Aragorn ducked under his first blow and came up sharply, the top of his dark head connecting with the other man's jaw. He collapsed instantly, unconscious. Unfortunatley, he came forward as he fell. Still weak from being drugged, Aragorn could not move fast enough to get out of the way, nor was he strong enough to hold up his own weight and that of his foe.

"Stupid, Strider," Halith said calmly.

Aragorn did not bother to reply as he struggled futiley against the man's dead weight. Ian had risen once again to his feet, and did not look at all pleased. With a snarl, the big man took hold of his companion and hefted him off the young ranger. Ian seized the front of Aragorn's shirt before the ranger could strike out, jerking him to his feet. Without stopping to think, Aragorn sank his teeth into Ian's arm.

The blow that Ian landed threw the dark haired man back several feet into the wall and made stars fly before his eyes. Slowly, he felt himself slide down into a sitting position. Though he wished to remain standing, it felt as though for the moment he no longer had control of his legs… He could hear Halith speaking. He sounded angry.

A dark shape was bending down in front of him. Ian. Though half unconscious, Aragorn struck out with his bound hands, earning another clout to his ear. A damp cloth was pushed over his mouth and nose.

No! He couldn't lose consciousness now…they were going to do something… Aragorn clamped his mouth shut and concentrated on holding his breath.

A heavy hand pressed down on his chest, forcing his air out. Aragorn gasped instinctively, smelt the same, sharply unpleasant smell and cursed in vile Sindarin as blackness claimed him once more.

0-0-0-0

When Aragorn came to, he immediately wished he hadn't. His shirt was cut from his shoulders and flung into a corner of the cell. His bound hands were jerked over his head, forcing him to stand almost on tiptoe. Pain surrounded him. He nearly choked at the intensity of it. What had happened? It felt as though his back was one solid mass of agony.

Thick ropes were wrapped around his bare torso, covering him from the armpits nearly to his waist. The young ranger could not spare any of his attention to think of what they might be for. He need every ounce of concentration just to keep from howling.

The door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang. Halith stood in the open doorway, a malicious smile twisting his lips.

"Well, now that sleeping beauty has decided to join us, perhaps we can discuss your friends the elves."

Aragorn's silver eyes grew wide as the older man stepped forward. He could not retreat, could barely move…Valar, it was all he could do to keep from screaming as it was! What had they done to him while he had been drugged? The young ranger bit down on his lower lip as he watched his foe approach.

There was nothing he could do. And the sick feeling of helplessness filled him with something very close to despair.

0-0-0-0

_Huanion! Orch morore agarwaen!- Son of a dog! Blackhearted bloodstained orc!_

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

_Tolo, gwanor nin. Noro roch lin. Met uva utuv Estel.-Come, my brother. Ride your horse. We two will find Estel._

0-0-0-0

**Ainu Laire-** Alright! Yes! Ranger torture! Obviously, you are in the right place for a whomping on everybodys' favorite ranger.:) Glad you are enjoying it, hope you like the bruises and other injuries Aragorn sustained.

**AM-** I dunno…He's gonna get awfully beat up…/evil grin/ I think you may be right however. He will be beating himself over the head horrendously for being so horrible to his brothers and father. Emotional angst! That's almost as good as torture/bright happy smile/ yeah, I know, I'm nuts.:)

**Saerwen-** /screams of horror/ BARNEY? You ARE evil! And everything's pink…/look of disgust/ it's like something out of MY worst nightmare anyway. I think that I would prefer torture! However, that's not for me, that's for Aragorn. /cackles evilly/ Sorry about the lack of regular posting, this story is turning out to be more tricky to write than just about anything else. /ducks as Saerwen waves the Pickle/ Come on…I said I was sorry! Um…look! Look over there! It's the next chapter/points wildly then flees as Saerwen turns/

**Grecian-** Oh yeah, the twins are going to get VERY vicious. And just because Legolas is near death and very badly wounded doesn't mean that he's going to get out of harms way. I'm not finished with him yet/evil smile/ Glad you're enjoying it.:)

**Evergreene-** /Sadie staggers in looking like she fell off a cliff after being dragged by a warg/ Now I know that you wouldn't have like sent wargs after me for not posting regularly…right? Anyway, I also loved that line from TTT.:) However, Elladan being jealous of Elrohir's insanity was also one of my favorite parts and don't worry! Even though Aragorn was absent from the last chapter he wasn't absent from this one! This time it's Legolas who doesn't make and appearance…

**Ithil-Valon-** Thank you very much! I really try to work in humor along with the torture blood and pain that everybody seems to want and it's really nice to know that people think I'm funny.:) I can never decide which twin I like more. I love them both so much! And Legolas and Aragorn and…well…all the LOTR character now that I think on it.

**QueenofFlarmphqal- ** Okay, after that review, I will now sleep with a weapon under my pillow.:) Just kidding. I know that you wouldn't really stab me in my sleep simply because you know that then I REALLY wouldn't be able to post! (Last time I checked, they didn't allow laptops into the afterlife) The ranger whomping is HERE! And it will only get worse from here on out. Doesn't that make you happy:)

**Singingharp-** Hey buddy! Thank you so much for your excellent feedback. I'm happy to hear you are enjoying my little tale of pain and suffering…wait…that didn't sound right. Oh well.:) Congrats on your job!

**Stonage Woman-** I can understand that. I picked up that book and couldn't put it down until I finished. Wasn't it good?

**Deep Sorrow**-/watches SM and AE waltzing together as they sing 'Happy Days Are Here Again'/ Well, they're happy anyway. (Estel) What about me! (Me) not important. Duh. Anyway my beloved sibling, thanks once more for your tireless prodding getting me to write this chapter. I don't know what it is about this story but it certainly is taking it's time working its way out of my little fingertips. Fortunately, I don't think there's going to be very much more slow stuff so from now on../slumps over in chair as SM brains her. AE quickly drags away the carcass/ (SM) Well, I think we've had enough working up to the good stuff. Now it's time for some ANGST! (AE) ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE/Legolas Estel and Twins begin digging and escape tunnel/ (Me) Ow…Son of an evil biscuit monkey! Who would have though a wiffle bat could hurt so freaking much? And you/level evil glare at her muse/ get out of that chair! These are MY review responses! (SM) No! It's my turn now! (Me) Oh for the love of the Valar…fine/heros blanch in horror/ but those guys better still be alive when I get back! Anyway, sibling, everything is going perfectly and now for some torture pain and suffering./evil smile/

**Viggomaniac-** Yes, potential for LOTS of angst. /evil laughter/ I can't say much or it would give away all my evil cliffies, but you're closest guess was the one about the injured ranger being found by the Twins. Notice, I only say CLOSEST.:) Sorry this is taking so horribly long to crank out. I'm going to blame it all on my muse. She's picketing for better wages…bloody muse.

**Greeneyedelf001-** Ooh! A favorites! I'm thrilled! Thank you very much!

**Aranna Undomiel-** Yes, I know EVERYTHING about being late. I have a black belt in that too, but I don't show that one off nearly us much as my whining one.:) I'm not allowed to kill Legolas? Darn. Now I have to rethink the entire ending of this story! Just kidding. I don't think I would ever be able to kill off a main character. It's not in my blood.:) Sorry this is so horribly late.:)

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Once again, my apologies for how horribly late this is and how this story is just seeming to drag out! I'm going to try really hard to get the next chapter out in less than a month's time cause this is just getting ridiculous. Please review anyway/hopeful smile/

Actually, from now on, I think I will hand over the writing to my muse. She's been looking forward to horrible torture and angst so much it seems like SHE would do a much better job of getting the thing out on time than me.:)


	10. Ambush

Well I'm back. Hey, at least it didn't take me four weeks this time, right/listens to crickets chirping/ drat. Anyway, I left the last chapter at a point where it looked as though Aragorn was about to go through something fairly unpleasant, so lets' see what happens, kay?

**0-0-0-0**

"Legolas, can you hear me?"

Yes. Yes, he could hear the soft, deep voice that penetrated the layers of blackness. But he did not wish to respond. For one, there was the nagging worry in the back of his mind that the moment he became conscious, he would be in considerable pain. It always happened that way. For another, he was fairly sure he recognized the voice that was calling his name.

"Legolas, it is time to wake up."

The prince sighed mentally. Yes, he knew that voice very well. He had heard it many times before, in these exact same circumstances. A bright searing pain spread across his rib cage, forcing a groan between his lips. Well, perhaps with different injuries, but similar circumstances anyway. He also knew that the voice would not cease to call him until he opened his eyes and aknowledged its' presence.

His lashes fluttered slightly. It was all he felt he could manage. Who was the prankster who had seen fit to attach heavy lead weights to each eyelid? Probably the twins…

A stab of pain that had nothing to do with his substantial injuries smote Legolas' heart. It could not be the twins…they had gone after Aragorn…Aragorn had been taken by humans.

0-0-0-0

"Strider!" The word was a gasp as Legolas' blue eyes flew open.

Elrond breathed a sigh of relief. He had been worried for the young prince ever since the scouts had brought him back to Imladris. The dark haired elf lord bent over his patient, delicate braids swinging over his shoulder as he peered into the fair elf's face.

"Welcome back, Legolas." Elrond's lips compressed tightly as he noted the purple bruises that adorned Legolas' skin. The prince had endured a vicious beating. It made him furious to see the young one hurt so callously. A deeper emotion ran through him as he wondered what state his sons would be in when they returned…

If they returned.

Elrond's slenders fingers clenched into a fist, his grey eyes burning. They _would_ return. Or others would feel the brunt of his considerable wrath.

Blue eyes turned toward the elf lord in confusion. "How did I get here?"

Elrond brought his mind back to his patient. "Our warriors brought you. Do you not remember?" A smile quirked the corners of his lips. "You certainly were not happy to be seperated from my sons. Or perhaps you do not recall the insults you brought down on Areste?"

Legolas winced. He did not remember. He could only imagine what his tongue might have said without his brain's permission. The fair prince shifted, as though he would raise himself into a sitting position. Elrond's strong, slender fingers clamped down on his shoulder, letting him know that this was not a good idea.

"I just spent hours making sure your ribs would not be puncturing your lungs," the dark haired elf lord said mildly. "It would not be very grateful of you to undo all my work with unneccesary movement."

Legolas relaxed under Elrond's hand. But the elf lord could tell it was not what the young prince wished to do. If he had to hazard a guess, Elrond would have said Legolas wished for nothing more than to be up and running after his sons. Worry stabbed the dark haired elf's heart with an excruciatingly sharp blade. What had happened? His warriors had not been able to tell him anything. Only that they had encountered Elrohir and the badly wounded Legolas. The moment Legolas was in their care, Elrohir had raced after his twin…

…and Estel.

"Legolas," Elrond seated himself beside the fair prince's bed and laced his fingers together, propping his chin on them. "Do you remember anything that has happened since you met my sons?" With a head wound like the one he had sustained, it was entirely possible that the silvan elf would not recall anything from the past few days or even weeks. Elrond braced himself to be disappointed, but at the same time he felt his pulse quicken. What had happened to his children?

Legolas saw the worry in the gray eyes that watched him so carefully. He cringed inwardly. How could he tell Lord Elrond that he had failed Estel? How could he tell him he had been unable to stop the men from hurting his friend? "I…" He didn't want to say anything. "I remember, _hir nin_."

Grey eyes pierced blue. Elrond leaned forward. "Tell me."

0-0-0-0

Daeion entered behind Halith, his eyes gleaming with dark anticipation. Aragorn's silver eyes followed the slight man's form warily. For some reason, he felt a stab of panic as he gazed into his foe's face.

Halith ran a finger down the ropes wrapped around Aragorn's chest. "You're probably wondering what happened while you were out," he said conversationally. "I would imagine your back's hurting a bit by now." He hooked a rough finger under one of the rope loops and jerked lightly.

Aragorn bit down hard on his lip, forcing himself to remain silent. Even that small amount of pressure caused his back to explode in pain. It faded, eventually. But it was far too slow for the young ranger's taste. Sweat stood out on his forehead with the effort of keeping quiet. "I thought," he finally managed to grit between his teeth. "that you hated bloodshed." The question was not directed at Halith, but Daeion.

The older man's face creased into a malicious smile. "I do. But I see no blood, and actually, I enjoy pain quite a bit.

"See these?" He held up one of the curious objects Aragorn had seen him holding before. "These are very special. I designed them myself."

Lovely. This was just the extra special treat he needed to make his day. A monologue from an obviously deranged and sadistic person. The silver eyes flattened with disdain.

Daeion continued on, oblivious. "They really are quite simple. All you need is a cut," the smile twisted slightly. "like the ones Halith made down your back." He laid the wand on the table and snapped his fingers almost lazily. Halith immediately drew his dagger, twirling it deftly in his fingers. Aragorn could see blood on the blade.

His blood.

"Not very deep cuts," the man said quietly. "An inch at the most. When you have the cut, you take one of these," he picked up the thin wand again, "and you place it _in_ the cut. The spines cause pain something fearful. And the ropes?" His smile tipped a little bit more. "They're there to make sure that these stay in place. After a time, a short time usually, the body really does heal quickly, especially when you're young and fit, but after a time, your skin will close over them. They'll still hurt. They'll always hurt. But sooner or later, the only way to remove them will be to cut them out."

Aragorn felt ill.

Without warning, Halith hooked his hand under a rope loop and yanked savagely.

Pain exploded across Aragorn's back in bright waves, eating at his flesh like a devouring flame. Stars flickered in his vision and he gasped for air. It was too much…he could not take it…his head drooped between his arms.

Several minutes later, the pain only began to recede. Aragorn's eyes glared through the curtain of dark hair covering his face. Hatred for the man in front of him burned hot.

Daeion seemed unimpressed by the look. "Did I mention that the spines are tipped with a potion that creates pain? It won't bother you very much right now, but in a few days a little jerk like that will be unbearable."

Aragorn could not help it. For a split second, he blanched.

Daeion's cruel eyes darked with satisfaction. He had seen the momentary fear race through those silver eyes. "Now…what do you say we talk about your friends the elves?"

0-0-0-0

Halith kept his worn face impassive. He was not like Daeion. He did not enjoy pain. To use it as an means to an end…all well and good. But he could not help but think that this was futile. He had seen a core of steel underneath the young man's rash need to prove himself. Though foolish, Strider was not _stupid_. An intelligent, strong willed enemy was best dealt with in one way. Halith felt his fingers tighten slightly around his dagger's handle almost involuntarily. He had stayed alive through years in cutthroat company by knowing whom to kill, and acting on his knowledge.

"You're insane," Strider said flatly. His eyes were cold. "I will _never_ tell you anything."

Daeion merely laughed. "Everyone says that…Strider. But in a few days, when the potion starts to work…" he laughed again.

Halith snorted in disgust. Though he served Daeion, respect was something else entirely. The older man was shrewd. Serving his current master would make him very rich. He did, however, find the sadistic traits in his master disturbing at times. Of course, he was also inclined to agree with Daeion. No one had ever withstood the torture of those wands. Everyone always ended up telling everything.

But there was something different about Strider. He didn't know exactly what it was, and he wasn't comfortable with it at all. Halith's eyebrows drew together in a V as he looked at the young man before him.

He was in pain, that was easy to see. Yet he kept his mouth tightly closed, never allowing so much as a whimper to slip through his lips. Sweat beaded across his forehead with the effort, and the look he was shooting at Daeion could have fried a mumak.

Without warning, the silver eyes swung around and fixed themselves on Halith's worn face. There was a deep strength in that fiery gaze. Halith was so startled he nearly took a step back. Shocked, he found that he could not hold Strider's gaze. His own dark eyes dropped and drifted to another part of the cell. He was shaken. What he had seen in those eyes only confirmed the vague suspicion that had until this moment been only nebulous speculation.

Halith watched Daeion step forward and tap Strider's back. This was useless. The young ranger would never tell them anything. And the steel in his silver eyes had unnerved Halith. They should kill him. Kill him now and be done with it. The older man bit his lip. He had kept his eyes open when they had entered Rivendell. He believed that he had observed enough to attempt an attack. They might lose men, true. But he believed that keeping this ranger alive would ultimately be more damaging in the long run.

Strider gasped as Daeion's hand fell across his back.

Halith's hand shot out, catching Daeion's wrist. The older man's fingers easily wrapped around Daeion's slender arm, halting him without any apparent effort. "I need to speak with you," he said roughly, in response to the shocked, and slightly angered expression on the slight man's face. Without another word, he turned and strode from the cell. He didn't look back. He knew that Daeion would follow him.

"What's wrong?" Daeion asked sharply, closing the heavy wooden door behind him.

"I don't like this." Halith stood with back to the door and his master, his shoulders tense. "This isn't a good idea. We should kill him now. He'll only bring trouble down on us if we keep him alive."

Slender fingers gripped Halith's shoulder, turning him around. Daeion met his second in command's eye steadily. "I know that you do not approve of the way I handle some things," he said in a quiet voice. "But we _need_ this information. How would it be if I sent the better portion of my men into a potentially dangerous situation with absolutely no knowledge of what they were facing?"

"I've been there…" Halith started heatedly.

"But you have not _lived_ there. And I doubt that the elves, as good of hosts as they were, decided to show you all the strengths and weaknesses of their defenses." Daeion cast a look back towards the cell. "No. We need to know if there is anything else. At the very least, I need to hear him confirm that there was nothing." Without another word, Daeion released Halith's shoulder, turned, and entered the cell once more.

The door swung shut behind him, leaving Halith seething in the hall.

0-0-0-0

Elladan was uneasy. There was something in the air that he did not like. Something waiting at the very edges of his senses. His horse seemed to feel it too. Perhaps the beast was simply reacting to his rider's tension, but the steed was uneasy. It pranced lightly in place, tossing its' head nervously as Elladan gently tugged on the mane, urging him to stop.

To human eyes, it would appear that the trail had suddenly ceased.

Neither twin was fooled. They could see the badly hidden tracks. They could tell that the humans they had been following were now hidden in the undergrowth around them. They could easily see that they were completely surrounded by a good score of men.

Elrohir met his brother's eyes and allowed his mouth to curl in an almost feral smile. Well, if these human's wanted to attempt an ambush, it would certainly give him a chance to vent some of the rage and frustration that had been building in his slender frame since the moment Estel left home. His long fingers slowly curled around the hilt of his sword.

Elladan gracefully slid from the back of his mount, feigning nonchalance. The humans were unaware that their trap was already sensed. And a trap was only a trap as long as the prey walked in unaware. The elder twin pretended to crouch and examine the tracks carefully, as though bewildered. His keen, pointed ears detected the crunch of clumsy human feet in the undergrowth.

Elrohir also dismounted and casually moved to stand by his brother. He touched Elladan's shoulder lightly. The humans were preparing to strike. Their movements were becoming restless.

Slowly, Elladan rose from his bent position, moving so that as though by accident, he stood back to back with his twin. His slender hands were already moving, concealed by the flowing cloak he wore, grasping for the hilt of his sword and dagger. He did not often fight with two blades, but in a battle where they were outnumbered by at least ten to one, it was best to have more than one weapon.

Gray eyes darted back and forth, detecting the movement of several branches. "Here they come," Elrohir said softly, his voice barely reaching even Elladan's acute hearing.

"I see them."

A shout rose from the surrounding trees. Roaring, screaming, immensely proud of their apparently succesful trap, the humans rose from hiding en masse and

charged forward.

0-0-0-0

**Stonage Woman- **/grins craftily/ so you have me all figured out, eh? Well…maybe you are correct, maybe not. It remains to be seen.:)

**Ainu Laire-** Oh yes, Aragorn is indeed in for one heck of a time before the twins finally correct their error and return to save the day! If that happens. The twins might very well get beaten up themselves and not be in any fit condition to ride to anyone's aid.:)

**QueenofFlarmphqal- **Thanks for calling off the wargs, I really appreciate it. After all, it's so hard to write with a monstrous beast leaping at your throat. Of course, it might have pushed me into a sufficiently angsty mood so I could write up some ranger whomping though. Now, it only seems as though the clues have gone unnoticed AS OF YET. The twins might still find them, especially after they realize that they've been tricked down a false path. Of course, the twins might also end up being captured tortured and maimed as well.:) It's a distinct possibility.

**Evergreene-** No, Legolas is not completely out of the picture yet, but he is getting a small break to rest and recuperate a trifle, seeing as he was near death.:) Yes, the Prince of Mirkwood will have at least one more very angsty scene before the end of this tale. Thank you for not killing me. I truly am sorry that this story is taking so long to crank out, but real life has a way of coming around and kicking me right in the…well, you get the picture.:)

**Greeneyedelf001-**I'm updating! I'm updating! See? Here's the next chapter. Maybe not very soon…but I'm trying, honest! Thanks for the positive feedback.

**Fluffy Bunny-**Thank you. I try very hard to portray a friendship and connection between the four of our heros, and it's always great to know that I'm doing a good job.

**Coolio02-** Um…three weeks after the las post is soon, right? Aragorn is definitley is some very deep trouble, but at least it's the kind that's really hard to get out of too, right? Thanks for the feedback:)

**Helluin-trip- **Hey, I finally get to respond to your reviews! Awesome. Anyway, yes there is definitely some more ranger whompage in this chapter, and there is more to come as well. I know how happy that makes everyone. I think I sense a little…um…sarcasm, when you mentioned the 'wonderful wait' between chapters. I'm sorry! Really! I swear! I don't know what it is about this story but it's just taking forever for my muse and I to crank out. Hmmm. Maybe I SHOULD give in to her demands for better pay. Well, hopefully you enjoy this chapter as much as the rest of the story, and a VERY big thank you for going and reviewing all the chapter for my other stories too! I enjoyed reading your feedback immensely.

**Aranna Undomiel- **Hey, at least this chapter took less than four weeks to get out, right? Poor ranger, all beated up and alone…and unaware that his clues have been missed. Angst! Woohoo! Ahem. Sorry, got a little excited there.:) But you are correct. Aragorn will not die. Yet. /evil grin/ hey, I can't go giving away to much of the story or my cliffies wouldn't work and everyone would get so bored with the long waits between chapters that they wouldn't bother to read and review anymore! Of course, I suppose I could always post earlier…

**Viggomaniac-** /blushes/ wow! Compliment upon compliment! Thank you so much! I'm extremely happy to hear that you think my stories are several notches above just torture fics. I enjoy torture as much as the next person, but I do think it's important that there be a reason for the torture. You know, other than the all important reason 'because I enjoy it more than I should'.:) Seriously though, I thrilled that you think my stories are so good. And I really appreciate the positive feedback. Thanks for mentioning the other stories. Actually, I am reading a story by Legolass Q at the moment. It's really good. Aragorn most definitley is NOT having the best of times here, and it will get worse.(as much as I stress the need for a plot, torture is fun…for me, not for Aragorn.:))

**Dragon Shadows-** Thank you very much for the feedback. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

**Deep Sorrow- **ha ha ha…NOT FUNNY. So I'm a little late posting… big deal. /pulls shade to hid the angry mob of reviewers outside her door/ But this chapter does have the desired ranger whomping, villain angst, and a little cliffie too! Hey, the next chapter will have even more pain and suffering for everybody's favorite ranger. I know that make YOU happy.:)

**Singingharp- **How funny…you ask, and on the day that you review, I am all set to post! Cool, huh? Hope you enjoyed the torture and angst, and I know that you'll look forward to more in the next chapter too. That is, if you have time to read it! Hopefully you will. I know that you'll be busy with your new job, (I hope you love it, by the way) but I always enjoy hearing from you.:)

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I will see you all next time! Hopefully not as long as this, because I already have a little of the next chapter written out, and most of it should be action and such so it should be written fairly quickly.


	11. Running Out of Time

Hey! Look! I am posting within a WEEK'S time! Oh I am so proud…what was that? No, this is not a cruel hoax, there IS a chapter underneath the author notes. /pouts/ Contrary to popular belief, I CAN get a chapter out on time, I just have to be proper motivated. My muse mentioned something about painful doom and despair falling upon my head if I didn't deliver in a timely fashion so I figured I could shift my lazy gears, ignore my homework and set to work.:)

**Anyhoo, last time left the twins in kind of a nasty position, so lets see how they get out.**

In one swift move, Elladan's blades were in his hands. He heard the shouts of triumph turn to horror as the front runners suddenly realized that their intended victims were not so unassuming after all.

Elladan leapt forward, only to have his sword blocked by the first man in his path. With lightning swiftness, the young elf lord brought his dagger up swiftly into his opponent's ribs.

They had been tricked.

Quickly, he freed his blade and spun to meet the next assailant.

Tricked! _And very neatly,_ said an admiring voice from the back of his head. Elladan mentally snarled at the voice to shut up if it couldn't offer anything useful; however, he was forced to agree. It _had_ been neat. It made him furious. Rage cast a bright red veil in front of his eyes.

These were not the humans that had taken Estel. Somewhere along the line, he and Elrohir had been tricked into following them instead of their original quarry. Probably at the place with the mishmash of footprints. He could see it now. They had joined, tramped around to disguise the fact, then sent this decoy group off in the wrong direction while Halith led the others and they concealed their tracks.

Worry for Estel fed his intense wrath, making his blood boil. The humans near him looked into his gray eyes and saw their death. With a inarticulate cry, Elladan flung himself at his foe, his blades tracing shimmering, deadly patterns through the night air.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir spun in a graceful circle, his sword trailing a bright streak through the moonlit night. A man cried out and fell. Elrohir did not even bother to cast a glance at his foe, his attention already spinning to the next. He knew, as his twin did, that these were not the ones they sought.

A man swung at him with a club, and Elrohir blocked the blow, grimacing as the shock sent tingling waves down his forearm. The dark haired elf brought his foot up, kicking the man hard in the center of his chest. The human stumbled back with a 'woof', and Elrohir quickly stepped forward, bringing the hilt of his sword down on the man's head.

As he moved forward, another human leapt at him, and the young elf lord skipped backwards nimbly to avoid the the curving sweep of a blade. Unfortunately, he was not quick enough. A bright, searing, ribbon of pain flew across his rib cage. Elrohir gasped, and struck back, swiftly finishing his opponent. A blow from behind! A thick pugil stick landed heavily on the younger twin's slender shoulders, driving him to his knees.

Even as he fell, Elrohir was moving. He allowed his right leg to bend into a crouch, putting all his weight on it as he swung his left in a quick arc. His limb caught his foe behind the knees, bringing him down. Before the man could even think of rising, Elrohir pounced with his dagger. Another opponent gone.

The humans were frightened now. Their ambush had not gone nearly as well as they thought it would. The elves were obviously better warriors, asides from being able to see perfectly in the shadow broken moonlight. More importantly, the twins fought with a wild energy that burned like a forest flame. All the worry of the past few weeks channeled itself into the violence they metted out.

0-0-0-0

A fist to the face! Elladan reeled from the blow. Blood poured from a cut on his forehead, obscuring his vision. The human must have had some type of weapon in his fist…

He could not see! Dim shapes moved before him as he desperately tried to clear his eyes. Something large suddenly eclipsed his view. Elladan stumbled backward as he heard one of the horses scream shrilly. There was a heavy thud. Finally clearing the last of the blood from his eyes, he stared in horror at the body of his steed. The human who had hit him was tugging at a spear imbedded in the animal's side. The horse had moved in front of Elladan just as the human sought to skewer him.

The human looked up from his labor just in time to see dark braids flying around a pale face, terrible with rage. It was the last thing he ever saw.

They knew the fight was a lost cause. Retreating became the order of the day, and the humans ran from the elven warriors.

Elladan stood trembling, his chest heaving as he fought down the righteous wrath that threatened to consume him. He could hear the remaining humans fleeing through the woods, and everything within him told him to follow and destroy them.

Well…almost everything.

The only thing stopping him was an image that swum into focus in his mind's eye. A boy. Human. Dark hair curled down to his shoulders in unruly locks. His silver eyes gleamed as they gazed up adoringly at his brothers.

With a shuddering sigh, the dark haired elf turned his back on the fleeing opponents. He did not have time to pursue them. Not when they had lost so much time already following a false trail. They needed to backtrack, and quickly.

Estel needed them.

A soft sound behind him made him spin around, his sword coming up, the light of battle flashing into his eyes…then he stopped. The remaining horse looked politely perplexed, but his twin smiled wearily at him as he sheathed his own weapon and leaned back against a tree. Leaned _hard _against it, Elladan suddenly realized.

"You are wounded." Even in the moon's dim light, he could see the dark stain soaking through Elrohir's tunic.

"You are one to talk." The younger twin gestured towards his brother's forehead.

Elladan swiped at the wound impatiently, ignoring the blood that smeared itself across his palm as he did so. "It is not serious."

"Neither is mine."

"Which means it _is_ serious."

"Only Estel speaks in euphamisms when it comes to his health."

"So, you will ignore my wound if I ignore yours then?"

" Done."

0-0-0-0

It took nearly a full day's travel to get back on track. The sun was sinking into the West, sending blood red ray's through gaps in the trees by the time the twins returned to where the trail was confused.

Elrohir ground his teeth in frustration. He and Elladan had made good time, but it frustrated him to no end to know that they had lost over two days. More than a day wasted by the false trail…and then the time to make their way back. Hissing through his teeth, the younger twin slid from the steed's back, his light feet touching on the trampled ground they had passed before. It was here that Halith had confused the trails. He was sure of it.

Elladan also dismounted, his gray eyes burning brightly in a pale face. Elrohir winced when he saw his twin's expression. Elladan blamed himself for being fooled. He was taking too much on his shoulders, as always. They had both been deceived, but the elder twin had a tendency to accept more than was his fair share. It was his duty as the 'eldest', as he constantly reminded both his twin and younger brother.

It was a tendency that could drive anyone to distraction, if they were not already there. Unfortunately, Elrohir noted sourly, he himself was _beyond_ distraction, so now he was rapidly being pushed into complete and utter madness with worry for not only his younger brother, but his older.

"Dan," Elrohir said sternly, "it was not your fault. Neither of us saw the trick."

"I should have," Was the snapped reply. Elladan was already crouched down, his fingers trailing lightly over the mish mash of confused prints. Dark curtains of hair hung on either side of his head, keeping his face hidden.

Elrohir groaned softly. With a grimace, he conceded defeat for the moment. Now was not the time for an argument. Not if they wished to find Estel as quickly as possible. Stepping lightly, the younger twin moved to the very edge of the trampled area, and slowly began to circle it, surveying the nearby growth carefully. He stopped, abruptly. There. A snapped branch. Not enough for a trail…but if they covered their tracks… Elrohir moved forward, trying to quell the hopeful feeling that rose in his chest. It could very well be a deer or other animal that did that. Another branch. A scuff against a tree. Brush marks on the soft dirt. Someone had tried to cover something.

Elrohir opened his mouth to call back to his twin…unfortunately, his heart chose that exact moment to leap from his chest and take up residence in his throat, strangling his cry. His gray eyes grew wide and he fell to his knees, his slender fingers groping in the dust. He was sure he had seen…he _knew_ that he had seen it…

A flash of the dying sun's last rays shot over Elrohir's shoulder, hitting the green stone in Barahir. It glittered in the dirt, and Elrohir seized it with a choked cry. Estel was alive, and he had come this way. For a few moments, all Elrohir could do was hold the ring tightly, clenched within his palm.

But he could not allow himself the luxury of relief. Estel was still in danger, and they needed to move quickly.

"Elladan!"

0-0-0-0

Aragorn's breathing came quick and shallow. The fiery pain that radiated from his back had increased over time, something he had not thought possible. Obviously, Daeion had not been lying about the poison coating his spine covered wands. They had let him down, after a time, but his arms still burned from the weight that had hung from them.

How long had he been here? He didn't know. Time had ceased to have much meaning as hour after hour trailed away and blurred together. Very few things stuck out with any clarity, but those that did were horribly vivid. A shiver shook his aching body as he recalled Daeion's last visit.

Every so often, Halith would appear, but his visits were strange. He would only come when Daeion was already there, and he did not speak through the entire ordeal, but his mouth would grow grimmer and grimmer as the session went on. More than once, Aragorn had heard him speaking with his master right outside the door. Halith wanted to kill him.

There were times when Aragorn wished Daeion would let him.

But they did not know he could hear them when they spoke together.

They did not know his hearing was sharper than any other man's. They did not realize that he knew what they wanted to hear him say. Daeion wanted to be sure that Rivendell was unprotected. And that was exactly what Aragorn would tell him.

But he could not tell him yet. He had to wait until he really was almost broken. If he gave in too easily, they would be suspicious. Aragorn knew this was true. He could see it in Halith's face every time the man entered the room. The cruel, dark eyes showed quite clearly that they did not expect the young ranger to say anything at all.

Aragorn chewed his lip. The moment he told Daeion what he wanted to know, Halith would insist that the young ranger should die, and there would be no reason to postpone it. Aragorn's head hung limply. He did not want to die. But for his father and his brothers, he would. It was the least he could do for them. Remembering the last harsh words he had spoken to his family, the dark haired man winced. Tears pooled in his silver eyes, but he did not let them fall. How he wished he had never spoken any of the hurtful phrases! Why could he not have acted more like the man he wished to be thought of?

Too late. It was too late. And his family would most likely never know how much he regretted his words.

The door creaked open, and light spilled through, illuminating his body. Aragorn raised his head slowly, his eyes cold and hard.

Daeion entered with an unpleasant grin. "Good morning…Strider."

Though he showed nothing on the outside, Aragorn quailed inside. And yet, there was almost a sense of peace within him. It wouldn't be long now…

0-0-0-0

Elladan halted, his gray eyes narrowing as he surveyed the forest floor. They had been proceeding on foot for some time now, Elrohir leading the horse. It would simply be too easy to overlook something from the back of a steed. Slowly he bent down. The marks were not hidden carefully, and he could guess what had happened here.

"I believe Estel was found out."

For the past few hours, they had been following the concealed trail, helped along by the clues their younger brother left for them. Small pieces of cloth, a boot strap, even buttons from his overcoat. But now, it appeared that he had been discovered. Someone had struggled…and fallen. Most likely, they had knocked him unconscious, then carried him the rest of the way.

They would have to be extra careful now, looking for the things the men had failed to conceal. Elladan nearly ground his teeth in frustration. That would take time. It would slow them down considerably. However, he was forced to concede, it would take more time to miss the trail due to lack of observation, as they had already discovered once.

Elrohir peered over his brother's shoulder, his own eyebrows drawing together. "We'll have to go more carefully." Obviously, the younger twin's thoughts were running parallel to his brother's. That much was plain to see by the frustrated look on his fair face.

"Indeed." Without another word, Elladan rose smoothly to his feet and proceed onward, his mouth set in a grim line, worry eating holes through his composure.

0-0-0-0

Halith leaned against a tree and stared blankly at the building where he knew Daeion would be 'talking' to Strider. Four days. It had been _four days_ since they had arrived. He had yet to hear more than a gasp from the young ranger's lips.

It amazed him.

To be subjected to the wands was usually more than a full grown man could take for anything over twenty-four hours before they were screaming for mercy. And yet this _boy_ had made no sound. Nothing. Every time he entered the cell, Halith was met with his cold, steady gaze. It made him uneasy. Every time he saw the dark haired young man, he felt sure that the best course would be to kill him quickly, before he had a chance to…

To…

To what? What was he so afraid of? Why did this young ranger unsettle him like nothing else had ever done?

He could only hope that Daeion would soon see that he was correct and allow him to end Strider's life.

0-0-0-0

Soon.

Another wave of pain enveloped him. Aragorn allowed a brief cry to slip through his lips. It galled him to do so, but if he did not make a sound, they would never believe that he had truly been broken. His hands were bound behind his back, but it really did not make a difference any more. The pain had taken most of his strength. He would not be able to do anything even if his hands were free.

Soon.

Daeion jerked on the ropes that wrapped around the young man's torso once more, sending fiery stabs of agony piercing through Aragorn's back. The young man cried out again. "Are you ready to tell me what I need to know?"

Yes. Yes, he was ready. It would be convincing enough for Daeion, and Halith was not here. "Yes…"

The slender hand froze in mid-air. Daeion's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Really? Then tell me. What are the defenses that protect your home?"

"There are…no…defenses…" Aragorn kept his voice defeated, allowing his ragged breathing to add to the picture of complete dejection. "None. The elves are peaceful…" His voice trailed off, and he hung his head, as though he had no strength left. Unfortunately, that was very nearly true. The pain that washed over him was sapping his energy. He just wanted it to end…a grain of fear rose in his mind for an instant. What if Daeion did not believe him? What if he continued to torture him…?

"Excellent." The slight man stepped back and smirked at the young ranger. "Thank you, Strider, you've been most helpful."

It would happen now. Daeion would kill him. He could not use him for anything else…

To his surprise, the man turned, and walked away. The door opened, then closed with a bang, shutting Aragorn into darkness. He was shocked. Why was he still alive? Why had Daeion not finished him off?

0-0-0-0

Halith straightened from his leaning position as he saw Daeion approach. There was a bounce in his step that the older man had not seen since the ranger had been brought to him.

"Prepare the men," Daeion said with a grin as he neared his second in command. "You're going to the elves."

Perhaps he had finally reached the conclusion that Strider would never tell him anything. "What happened?"

"You were right, you know. There are no defenses. Nothing to stop us."

A very quiet alarm bell started ringing in the back of Halith's mind. "He talked?"

An amused smile spread over Daeion's face. "I told you he would. No one has ever resisted those little devices. Though I will admit, he's lasted longer than anyone else. For a while, I was worried that you might be correct!"

This wasn't right. It just wasn't right. Something was wrong here. Halith opened his mouth to speak his suspicions, but Daeion cut him off. "I want you to leave as soon as possible. A full complement of men. There might be no defenses, but a full valley of elves will be a considerable task, even with the element of surprise."

Daeion kept talking, but Halith stopped listening. It didn't matter what he said. Any doubts he had would be overridden. All he could do at this point was follow orders and push the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind. Hopefully, he was wrong. Perhaps it _had_ been too much for Strider to bear. Perhaps he _had_ been broken.

Halith recalled with unsettling clarity the steely strength behind the silver eyes.

Perhaps he would tell the men to carry extra weaponry.

"What's going to happen to him now?" Surely Daeion would not keep him alive.

"Do not concern yourself," the slender man answered, slightly annoyed at being cut off in the middle of his flow. "He will be killed of course. I'll have someone deal with him later."

That was better than nothing, but not by much.

0-0-0-0

"What are they doing?"

"They're leaving."

"How many?"

"I count at least five score, all on horseback. Perhaps more."

"I wonder how many are left at their base."

"There cannot be many. Probably only a few to protect their master."

"Quiet, they are coming."

"Human hearing. Do not make me laugh. As if they could detect anything over the noise they're making."

Elrohir rolled his eyes. Yes, in all fairness, it was unlikely that the humans would be able to detect the soft elven voices above their heads, but he did not want to take any risks. He and Elladan were both wounded, and fighting off at least a hundred humans did not sound like an enjoyable prospect to him. They had hidden their horse deep within the forest at the sound of approaching feet and took to the trees. The younger twin settled himself more comfortably on the branch where he crouched, gray orbs watching the humans that filed beneath him closely. He saw several that had been in the group that took Estel. A soft growl rose in his throat as he gazed on his brother's tormentors.

Elladan's eyes widened suddenly. His strong fingers clamped around his twin's shoulder and his free hand shot forward, pointing. Elrohir followed his gaze and swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to leap from the branch and fling himself at the figure Elladan was pointing at.

Halith.

The weathered man rode to the side of his small army, a grim expression on his lined face. There was no sign of Estel.

Elladan's fingers were digging into his shoulder with almost bruising intensity. Elrohir quickly covered his brother's hand with his own, shooting him a look that let him know he understood exactly what he was feeling.

As soon as the humans were away, Elladan leapt from his perch, landing lightly on the ground. Elrohir joined him without a second thought. Estel had not been among the group leaving. That meant that wherever these men had come from, that's where their brother would be. The twins moved forward silently, their feet making no mark, and no sound. Eyes cold and hard, their dark hair whipping around pale faces like raven's wings.

0-0-0-0

"Ah, Strider. I would like to thank you for all the help you have given. Such a pity that you cannot remain with us for longer."

Meaning, Aragorn knew, that Daeion meant to have him killed.

The slender man stood before him in the doorway, a guard behind him. The guard had a drawn blade in his hand. "Did you hear them leave, Strider? Quite a few of them. They've gone to see the elves."

That was hours ago now. He had heard. A small spark of triumph glowed within his aching body. He had done one thing right at least.

"I don't think that you ever received a tour of our fine accomadations, did you?" Daeion nodded to the guard. Immediately, the man stepped forward and jerked Aragorn to his feet.

The rough handling did _not_ suit Aragorn. He gasped and hissed as pain shot through him. His legs were weak, and he was trembling where he stood. He would not be able to walk far. Why did they have to make him move anyway? Couldn't they just finish him off quickly and peacefully? Oh, but how had he forgotten? The Valar hated him. Gritting his teeth, Aragorn stumbled forward.

"Come, Strider, this way." Daeion swiftly set off down the hall. As they continued on, the floor started to slope downwards. The walls grew damp. Moss sprouted between the stones.

A curious rushing sound reached Aragorn's ears. It sound almost like…water. A river, he would have said had he been outdoors.

They rounded a corner, and the young ranger's mouth dropped open. It _was_ a river. An underground river. And Daeion had been clever enough to find it, and use it.

"As I mentioned before," Daeion said casually. "I abhor bloodshed."

Aragorn's eyes were immediately drawn to the large rock that sat near the edge of the river, a rope already tied around it. He swallowed hard.

"It didn't have to be this way, you know," Daeion said, his voice almost regretful. "I could have used someone like you. But I suppose it's too late for regrets." A scornful look crossed the slender man's features. "You gave up your life for _elves_, Strider. And it doesn't even matter. They're going to die. My men will wipe them out." A cold laugh spilled from his lips. "No defenses! They'll be slaughtered. Halith will see to that."

The smallest flicker of a smile creased Aragorn's stubbly cheeks. Cold and hard, it was not a pleasant expression. A laugh was building inside of him. One of triumph, if not real mirth. It burst from him, echoing eerily against the stone.

Daeion looked at him as though he had gone insane. "Did you not understand me?"

"I understood you perfectly." Aragorn's voice was icy steel. There was no trace of the defeat he had shown previously. The young ranger raised his head and met Daeion's gaze. It took a lot of effort to keep his chin up, but he would not allow himself to falter. "Now you understand me. When your men reach Rivendell, they will be destroyed. There are guards everywhere. They will be hidden in the trees and your men will never see them, never hear them until it's too late." He took a moment to enjoy Daeion's horror stricken face.

"You said…You said… there was nothing…"

"I lied." A flame burned brightly in silver eyes. "And do not think that you will be forgotten. No matter what happens, no matter what torture you put me through or whether you kill me or not…you will not escape the fate of your men." Again, a coldly unpleasant smile spread across his face. "The elves will come for you."

There was a moment of deathly still silence in wich Daeion's face twisted from shock, to very real fear, and then flickered to rage.

Daeion wheeled. "You!" He seized the guard's shoulder in a desperate grip. "Get a horse! Ride after them…" Even as he said the words, an awful truth seemed to become clear.

"Sir," the man sounded as though he would rather die than impart bad news. "There are no horses left. They were all taken… You said you wanted the men to arrive as quickly as possible…"

"He'll never catch them on foot," Aragorn said quietly, but with triumph in his voice.

"Go now!" Daeion hissed into the guard's face. "I don't care how you do it, but you will catch up to them." He pushed violently, sending the man spinning into the hall. "GO!" As the man fled, Daeion turned back toward the young ranger. Violence and pain glittered evilly in his eyes. "You! You did this!"

Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance. Before a word came out of his mouth Daeion flew across the room. One blow sent the young ranger flying onto his stomach. Landing beside the river's edge, he weakly tried to move away but Daeion was already upon him, leaning his full weight into Aragorn's spine. He could not resist or fight back. The pain exploding from his back had taken whatever strength he had.

With murder glinting in his eyes, Daeion seized Aragorn's hair and pushed his head beneath the surface of the water.

**Evergreene- **Wow, this chapter was actually up in a decent time frame! Yeah, Aragorn really is being put through the wringer here, but that's how everyone likes it.:) I can be evil? Really? Woohoo! Best thing I've heard all day. However, I don't TRY to leave the ranger and elf in horribly painful situations. Well…at least I don't try very hard.:)

**Greeneyedelf001-** Everybody loves torture. Including me! I don't know what it is, but there's something really great about having the heros get the stuffing beat out of them. And I actually updated soon!

**Ainu Laire-**Well, the twins aren't too bloody…a little bloody, but not horribly bad. Not like Legolas and Aragorn.:) Yes, they are all in for a nightmareish time, and I so wish I could feel bad about that…but I just can't.

**Stoneage Woman- **Actually, I lay the blame for my methods of torture with my muse, and my sister's alter ego. Mostly my sister's alter ego in this story. Actually, I think that when we first started hammering out the plot, the torture was the first thing we thought of. However, even though there is some rather intense whomping, I am at least posting soon this time, right? That's a good thing, isn't it:)

**QueenofFlarmphaqal-** Now I will admit that wargs ARE a very good source of angst and pain, but I was thankful that I did not have them at my throat this week. In fact, I'm posting soon enough that no one will have to threaten me! That makes me soooo happy. Glad you thought the last chapter was very nicely angsty. I try.:) No, I don't believe Aragorn will enjoy those spikes ONE BIT. But hey, he's the character and I'm the author. (Aragorn) Shouldn't I at least get SOME say…? (Me) No. Thanks for mentioning the glare. I always love putting in stuff like that, those are some of my favorite bits.

**Helluin-trip**- Well I followed your advice, and that must have been one heck of a cookie, cause my muse just spat this chapter out.:) Of course we want to inflict as much damage as possible on the poor ranger…Now THAT just sounds disturbing. But true. I mean, what's a story without a whomping? Glad you like the spikes. My amazing sibling beta came up with that idea when we were just hammering out the plot for this story.:)

**Arranna Undomiel-** ha! I am down to ONE week for and update! Yay me! Yes, poor Estel. He's in for a rough time. And I really did feel almost sorry for the humans that attacked Elladan and Elrohir. They had NO idea what was in store for them. I think everyone here loves angst. In fact, if someone didn't love angst, I would really wonder what on earth they were reading MY stories for. After all…I kind of thrive on angst.:)

**Tiz02uk-** Your wish is my command! Glad you are enjoying the story so much, and here is your next chapter.:)

**Deep Sorrow-** well sibling, be proud of me. Here I am, posting. And it hasn't been a month since the next chapter! What do you say? Do you think I can do it next week too? I think so. Espescially since we are getting to the really good horribly angsty part and my muse is just itching to write it. No, really, she's itching. One of the heros threw itching powder on her and BOY is she mad…I think she may have some kind of twisted personal revenge linked into these next few chapters… But thank you for dissuading my from choosing the easy way out and writing the same old same old character that has popped up in numerous places. You know what I mean, the pain seeking sadistic (hopefully I got the whole word there) sociapath. Looking forward to the next chapter!

0-0-0-0

**Well, that was so much fun I think I'd like to try it again! Meaning, that I will most likely be posting another chapter next Saturday. My muse has been looking forward to writing the next few chapters for forever…/evil laughter/ See you all then, and thank you for the wonderful reviews!**


	12. Retribution

The guard sprinted from the room and down the hall, his boots echoing loudly against the stone walls. How was he going to catch up with the rest? They had left on horseback hours ago! He would have to run without ceasing! This was ridiculous, it couldn't be done!

Lost in his own wonderings, he flew around a corner.

To his credit, he tried to stop. His boots slid and skidded as he desperately tried to cease his forward movement. He didn't want to be anywhere near those two!

Unfortunately for him, he moved much to slowly.

The last thing he caught sight of was a fist, and two pairs of flashing gray eyes.

0-0-0-0

His struggles were weakening. Blackness floated around the edges of his vision. His lungs were screaming for air, but he knew that if he opened his mouth it would not be oxygen the rushed in.

Aragorn could hear Daeion swearing at him venomously as he leaned all his slight weight against the young ranger's shoulders, one hand firmly tangled in the dark locks of hair, holding their owner's head firmly beneath the icy surface of the water. The pain radiating from the wicked wands was slowly sapping what little resistance he had. Soon, he would black out…the water would rush in to fill his mouth and nostrils…

But apparently Daeion was too impatient for that. Aragorn felt the bright flash of pain as the free fist connected with his side. His air streamed from his mouth in a flood of precious bubbles as he gasped involuntarily.

The water flooded inwards and Aragorn choked, but he could not withdraw from the killing liquid. He could not breath…he was going to drown…

0-0-0-0

Elladan was the first to enter the underground chamber, and thus was the first to catch sight of a slender man in the act of drowning another. And not just any other. There was a hesitation of less than a second as Elladan's brain registered what his eyes were telling him.

Estel!

The inarticulate cry that burst from the young elf lord's lips was like that of a dying, and highly enraged tiger.

Daeion's head jerked upwards in horrified shock. The slight man faced a vision from his darkest nightmares. Here was not one, but _two_ elf lord's, their forms blazing in the dimness of the cavern like room. Their rage was like a palpable force emanating from burning eyes.

Elladan's sword was in his hand in less than a moment and he leapt forwards, bringing the blade down in a shining arc with all the force he could muster.

Daeion shrieked in horror, but was fast enough to release his captive and hurl himself backwards out of the way as the sword carved a path through the air that would have seperated his hands from his arms very neatly. Stone chips flew through the air as the blade hit the floor with enough strength to crack the flagstones. The slight man was on his feet in an instant and fleeing towards the door, expecting every moment to be his last…

Elladan almost flung his weapon away and fell to his knees, his arms reaching to jerk his little brother back from the black waters. Elrohir was already there. Seizing the young ranger's shoulders, the twins pulled desperately. Aragorn fell into their laps, his face white. Eyes closed. He wasn't breathing.

Elrohir fought hard to keep his hands from trembling as he laid his little brother flat on his back, his long fingers pressing against the human's cold skin, searching desperately for a pulse.

He found it. It was weak. Too weak.

"Breath!" Elrohir immediately folded his hands together and pressed down on the ranger's chest. No response. "Estel!" Elrohir pushed down again. "Estel, please!" Water poured from the ranger's mouth and he choked, his body jerking under his brother's touch. Elrohir withdrew and pushed his little brother onto his side, letting him expel all the liquid he had inhaled. After what seemed an eternity, he drew in a deep shuddering breath.

The twin's eyes met over their sibling.

Elladan's burning gaze darted towards the door. Elrohir nodded. The younger twin clasped his brother's arm briefly. "Go." He could sense Elladan's indescion. He did not want to leave Estel, and yet the thought of allowing their younger brother's tormentor to escape was unthinkable. "Elladan," Elrohir locked eyes with his twin. His voice was hard and cold. "I will care for Estel. Do not let him get away. Make him pay for what he has done."

Without a word, the elder twin was on his feet and speeding after the man whom he had seen harm his brother.

0-0-0-0

Daeion flew down the corridor blindly, terror putting wings on his feet. The slight man threw a glance over his shoulder as he ran, expecting to see the blazing eyes of an elf lord burning bright and terrible in a fair face.

But there was nothing there.

The momentary reassurance did not slow Daeion's feet. The young ranger's words echoed horribly through his mind. "_The elves will come for you…they will come…_" and they had.

Daeion's breath sobbed in his throat as he sprinted onwards. He was unused to such physical activity. He could not keep running forever. Slowing down, the human allowed himself to come to a walk. Never in a million years could he outrun one of the first born anyway. What he needed was somewhere to hide.

Cold sweat trickled down Daeion's forhead, stinging his eyes. He knew that it was not entirely because of his recent exertion. He was frightened out of his mind. He turned to look over his shoulder once more…

…and his heart nearly stopped. A shriek of terror tore from his throat.

An elf, tall and terrible was speeding towards him, his light feet making no sound on the hard stone floor. Dark braids whipped in the air behind him. A sword was clenched in his fist and a light of battle shone in the gray eyes, coupled with a thirst for vengeance. An expression of rage had taken hold of the fair features, making him the most terrifying thing Daeion had ever seen.

For a moment, the human could not move. Fear had frozen his feet to the stone floor. Self preservation surfaced however, and Daeion took off with a turn of speed that would have left a hare bewildered. He knew, however, that he could not keep it up. A stitch was already piercing his side, making his breath come in short, painful gasps. As he ran, Daeion fumbled inside his tunic for the dagger he kept as a safeguard.

A strong hand seemed to come from nowhere, catching his shoulder in a bruising grip, the long fingers clasping with crushing force. How had he caugth up so fast? Daeion screamed, partly from pain, but mostly from fear. He could not keep running. The grip was too strong and it was bringing him to a halt. He swiped blindly with his own blade and was startled to feel the hand suddenly release. Relief flooded him, but only for a moment. The next thing he knew, a sharp kick landed on the back of his knees, sending him crashing face first into the stone floor.

Daeion immediately rolled onto his back, his eyes staring fearfully up into the wrathful gaze of the elf. Blood trickled from his lip. He had split it open when he hit the floor.

"Get up." The elf's voice was cold. Implacable. His boot nudged Daeion when the human did not move. "Up, human. _Now_."

What else could he do? Slowly, the slender man rose from his position on the floor, trying hard not to notice that the elf towered over him by more than a foot. He started to release his weapon, but the elf shook his head, his dark braids swaying.

To Daeion's surprise, the elf lord sheathed his sword. The human felt an unpleasant thrill as the fair being drew forth a dagger instead. The elf meant to fight him in hand to hand combat.

As he looked on in dread, the dark haired elf dropped into a combat position. The blade of the elven dagger gleamed in the dim corridor, flickering with the elf's own glow. He stretched out his free hand, and the long fingers beckoned silently.

Daeion leapt forward, stabbing viciously with his weapon.

He hit nothing but air. Even as he swung, the elf was twisting out of his reach. With a movement almost too fast to see, the fair being snagged Daeion's wrist as it came toward him and lunged, driving the point of his blade into the human's shoulder. But he did not push it in far. It was a flesh wound only. Daeion barely had time to feel the sting of his newly acquired injury before his opponent had withdrawn.

Warm blood blossomed into a crimson stain as Daeion stared at his shoulder in shock. Wounds were not something he was accustomed to. The human turned his eyes toward the enemy and cringed.

The elf was crouched in a 'ready' position once more. His gray eyes were cold enough to frost over the fires of Mt. Doom. And in that gaze, Daeion read the absolute lack of mercy this foe would show him.

He was going to die if he continued this fight.

The human turned and fled.

Before he had taken five steps, he gasped. Agony. Slowly, he crumpled to his knees…then fell face forward onto the cold stone floor.

His last thought before he succumbed to the darkness eating his vision was that this wasn't the way he had planned things at all…

0-0-0-0

Elladan grasped the hilt of his dagger and pulled it from the human's back, his features written over with the disgust he felt for the enemy lying dead at his feet. The human should be grateful. It was far too easy a death.

With a final snort of complete and utter contempt, the young elf lord turned and started to make is way back to his brothers.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir watched his elder brother fly through the door, then turned his attention back to the younger.

Estel still coughed and choked, but he was at least breathing. A sorry sight he looked indeed. Strands of wet hair clung to his white face. His silver eyes had a dull look, as though they were not really seeing what was before them.

"Estel?" Elrohir bent close, hoping to see some sign of recognition, but the young ranger did not seem to have heard the elf's voice. Slowly, his choking eased and he began to breath normally. Elrohir reached out and laid his hand on his younger brother's back, meaning to turn the human so that he rested more comfortably. He was not prepared in the slightest for how Estel reacted.

The young ranger cried out, arching away from his brother's hand. The silver eyes flew wide open as Estel's voice rose in agony. "NOOO! Do…do not…touch me…!"

Elrohir jerked back as if he had been struck with something hard and heavy. His mouth dropped open in shock. "Estel!"

"Do not…" the ranger gasped as he tried to curl himself away from his brother. "Do not touch…"

Elrohir swallowed hard, resisting his initial impulse to reach out and take hold of his little brother, knowing now that something about his touch caused the young man pain. "Estel," he fought to keep his voice calm. "What is it? What is hurting you?"

But once again, Estel did not seem to hear him. He lay curled in a fetal position, breathing hard…half sobbing.

Quickly, the younger twin ran his gaze over Estel, trying to determine his injury. Elrohir frowned. Asides from a few bruises, he could not see anything that would cause undue pain. Of course, he could not see all of the young man's skin either. Though Estel's shirt was missing, there were ropes wrapped around his torso. Not to bind, no, there were ropes around his wrists for that…so what were they there for?

Taking infinite care not to touch his brother more than was neccesary, and trying desperately to ignore his soft sounds of distress, Elrohir swiftly drew his dagger and sliced through the ropes on Estel's wrists. He waited, but nothing happened. No reaction. His fingers trembling slightly, Elrohir reached out, and, as gently as he possibly could, began to cut the rope wrapped around the ranger's midsection.

As soon as the heavy hemp cords were touched, Estel stiffened. He did not cry out again, but Elrohir could tell that whatever he was doing was not comfortable.

The ropes fell away.

Elrohir stared for a moment, not realising at first what it was he was looking at.

There were marks on Estel's back. They looked to be very freshly healed wounds at first glance. But only at first. Running from his shoulder down to nearly his waist, the stripes of very new, pink skin had a strange appearance. As Elrohir bent forward to look more closely, he saw that there were actually raised ridges beneath the new layer of skin covering the wounds. Something had been placed in the wounds created…and the skin had been allowed to grow over it. Elrohir swallowed hard, feeling suddenly very ill.

"Estel," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

0-0-0-0

Aragorn floated in a world of pain. He could breath again, thank the Valar, but then again, he wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or not. After all, breathing meant that he could still feel every one of those horrible wands embedded in his flesh.

He couldn't take it any more. He didn't even know what he was saying. As if from a very great distance,he could hear his own voice pleading that they not touch him. He hated himself for it, but really, he had no control over his own voice any longer.

Someone was calling to him. He didn't want to answer. He had already told them everything he was going to. If they wanted to kill him, they should just do it and get it over with. Though he was in agony beyond what he could take, he still would not tell them anything more of his home.

But wait…

The voice that was calling was not using the only name he had given his tormentors.

"Estel."

So few people called him Estel. His father and brothers. His heart leapt in his chest. Yes. He recognized this voice now. This was Elrohir. Aragorn could have sobbed in relief.

His brothers were here.

0-0-0-0

Elladan strode quickly back down the long corridor. A cry of pain echoed suddenly and the elf felt his heart squeeze as though it had been clenched in a vice. That was Estel's voice.

Though his feet had been swift to pursue after Daeion, they were swifter still returning to his brothers.

"Estel!" The elder twin slid to a halt in the doorway. He looked in and saw his twin bent over their younger brother, his dark hair hanging in curtains around his pale face. Over and over Elrohir was calling their brother's name. His long fingers moved restlessly as though he wished to hold the young man, but did not dare to touch him. Elrohir looked up at the sound of Elladan's voice, and Elrond's firstborn saw the track of tears clearly on his cheeks.

"Ro…" Quickly, Elladan entered and sank to his knees beside his twin. Was something wrong with Estel? Was their brother dying? "What is it?"

Elrohir gestured wordlessly toward the young ranger, his face set in a stony mask. Grief was etched deeply across his fair features, but there was something else. Underneath his sorrow there was a burning rage.

Uncertain as how to read the emotions he saw in Elrohir's face, Elladan turned toward their younger brother.

Then he saw the marks. And he comprehended what had happened.

"We will have to take him to _Ada_," Elladan finally said. He winced inwardly at the thought of traveling while Estel was in such a state, but he knew that neither he nor Elrohir had the skill for something such as this. He was already reaching out to lift the young ranger when Elrohir caught his wrist in a strong grasp.

The younger twin merely shook his head in response to the inquiring look Elladan shot him. "I touched him once, Dan." His face twisted in remorse. "I did not even touch him roughly. But he cried out. He is in pain, and he does not know that we are here."

0-0-0-0

But he did know…he could hear them…their voices sounded like music to his ears. He could have wept for joy. Slowly, he let his silver eyes travel from one beloved face to the next. Tears crept over his eyelashes. He did not think that he would ever see them again.

He had thought that he would die without being able to ask forgiveness.

Ignoring the fire that still burned across his back, Aragorn stretched out his hand.

0-0-0-0

The twins gasped in unison as a calloused hand joined theirs. It was weak, though usually strong. However, neither elf could have been happier to feel even it's tremulous grasp.

"Estel!"

Silver eyes met their gaze. A very shaky smile touched the corners of the young ranger's lips. "_Gwenyr nin_…"

"_Met si, tithen pen_," Elladan said softly. "_Anann met khil le._"

"I did not think you would," the ranger admitted. "Not after the things that I said…"

Elrohir looked horrified. "Did you think that we would cease to care for you over words!" The elf gently stroked damp strands of hair away from Aragorn's face. "Never."

"Estel," Elladan said hesitatingly, "we need to leave. We must get you to _Ada_. Neither Ro, nor I have the ability to mend what has been done to you. It…" Elrond's firstborn faltered for a moment as he looked into his brother's face and saw the mark that pain and suffering had left etched there. "It will hurt."

Aragorn closed his eyes slowly. He knew that it would. And he was so tired. He wanted the pain to be gone, before it leached away what was left of his life. Of course, the only way to be rid of the agony was to endure it for just a little longer. "_Iston_."

"Can you walk at all?" Elrohir asked. "If you were able to hold up at least some of your own weight, we would not have to carry you, and it might not hurt so badly."

"I…I can try," Aragorn said hesitantly. His eyes flickered open. "But I will need your help, _gwenyr nin_."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks. They could not remember the last time Estel had asked for help…

Without a word, the twins took one each of Aragorn's arm and slowly helped him gain his feet. Quickly, they threw his arms over their shoulders so that he could lean on both of them as he moved his feet. Normally, they would have wrapped their own arms around his waist, but they did not want to take the chance of hurting him any more than they could help.

Step by painstaking step, the threesome moved forward down the long, dank corridors of Daeion's headquarters.

Although he was in pain, Aragorn felt lighter in heart than he had in days. Mostly because of the fair beings on either side of him. Tears clogged his throat. He had abused them so viley, and yet they pursued him, placing themselves in danger. He had not missed the cut across Elladan's forehead, nor the ugly crimson stain on Elrohir's tunic. Both twins looked as though they had crawled to Mordor and back without sleeping once.

"I am sorry," the ranger whispered.

Elladan jerked his head in surprise. "Sorry for what?"

"My words."

Elrohir cast his twin a curious glance. "What do you mean?"

"You were right…both of you. I was not prepared for what lay ahead, and I should have trusted the advice you gave me. I was foolish, and it shames me to know that my stupidity put you both, as well as Legolas into danger."

Elrohir saw the momentary spasm of grief flicker across Estel's already ravaged face, and correctly interpreted it. "Fear not, _gwanor_, Legolas is safe. He is in Rivendell."

A burden seemed to have lifted itself from the human's shoulders. "He lives?"

"Yes." Elladan smiled at his brother fondly. "He lives."

"Thank the Valar." A smile stretched Estel's stubbly cheeks. "But please, _gwenyr_, I need to know…that is…will you forgive me? I was in the wrong. I was not as wise as I thought myself and I ask your forgiveness. You were right. Please accept the apology of one who was too blind to see that your actions were not meant to stifle me, but to keep me from harm because you cared for me."

Elladan stared at his little brother, his jaw slightly open. Until this moment, he did not think he had truly seen Estel in years. Where had the curly, bouncing child gone? At what point had he grown into the suffering, weakened man leaning against his arm with a wisdom dearly bought shining in his silver eyes. Somehow, sometime, something had changed. With a pang of sorrow, Elladan realised what exactly it was. Estel the boy was still there…but he had been eclipsed for the most part by another.

"Aragorn," he said softly. "I accept your apology…as given by a man."

His little brother turned his head sharply to look at him, but seeing the sincerety shining in his eyes, allowed his own face to slide into a tired, rather lopsided, but genuine smile.

"Thank you." He whispered softly.

0-0-0-0

Gwenyr nin-My brothers 

_Met si, tithen pen. Annan met khil le.- We are here, little one. Long we two followed you._

_Ada- father(daddy)_

_Gwanor-brother_

_0-0-0-0_

**QueenofFlarmphqal-** Yes, Aragorn was in some VERY real danger there. Wasn't it great:) I love angst so much…Glad you liked the twins. I love to write stuff with the twins being all mad and stuff. There's just so much potential for cool things to happen. And I got a YAY for updating on time! And I'm about to get another one! Woohoo!

**Ainu Laire-** Glad you liked those lines. Those were my wonderful beta sibling's idea.:) She comes up with some great stuff. The ranger is living…for now anyway./evil smile/

**Evergreene-** Don't act so surprised. I mean, I've updated in a week before…it was…well…I'll think of it, give me a moment…:) I know I know, my update record has been simply dreadful on this story. Usually I'm not this bad, I swear. But hey, for the second week in a row, I am posting on time! Aragorn wasn't forced to hold his breath for over a week.;) Woohoo! Glad you liked that line. It was my wonderful beta sibling's idea.:)

**Greeneyedelf001- **Unfortunately, I am not in charge of the cliffies, that would be my muse. And I would tell her for you that you do not appreciate the gut wrenching feeling of the cliffies that she inserts into my blah, fluffy, huggy sweet fiction, but that would mean that I would have to approach her…/casts nervous glance over at shaking cage/ And she can get kind of testy…:)

**Andromida-1971-** glad you liked the angst of the last chapter, and hopefully you enjoyed the angst of this one too.:)

**SmileyHalo-** Hey! Bring him back here I need him for the rest of the story/retrieves the ranger from SmileyHalo/ besides, if I don't keep him around he'll never get those things out of his back! Anyway, was the killing of Daeion to your liking:) Since I try to please everybody, I didn't even put a cliffie in this chapter. AND it's on time. Of course, what would an angst story be without a cliffie every so often? I realise that I do kind of include more than the daily reccommended dosage of evil cliffies…but it's so much fun! I try to feel bad about it but I just can't. So hopefully everyone will forgive me for that.:)

**Athena-** I know what you mean. I have lost count of how many times I have sat down, read a really good fic, known that I needed to review, got busy…and the next then I know they're putting up the next chapter. Doh! Oh well. Thanks for reviewing this time! Glad you liked the twins lines there. That was one of my wonderful sibling beta's ideas.:) Oh…and do you realise how many different ways 'put the ranger our his misery' could be taken/evil smile/

**Tiz02uk-** Well here is the next chapter…on time! Woohoo! Oh I just love it when that happens. Hopefully Daeion's death met with your approval.:) It might not have been long, but at least he was really scared. That's almost as good, right? And lovable Estel has been rescued…kinda.

**Nietta-** One of your favorites? Really/blushes/ thanks! Stuff like that always just makes my day. Glad you are enjoying the torture and the angst.:)

**Helluin-trip-** how could I ever forget the ranger pain? It would be like leaving the chocolate out of a chocolate cake. I know what you mean about homework though. Just started second year of college./shifts her own rapidly growing pile under her bed/ but I'm on time with my post! And that's all that matters, right? Who cares if math doesn't get done/notices evil glare of her professor/ asides from him. :)

**Viggomaniac-** Wow! I am overcome by praise! Thank you again and again for your wonderful feedback. I'm glad you liked the angst and torture that my muse is so happily spinning away. She's been waiting to write this stuff for ages…and hey! I'm on time posting! Isn't that great? I bet nobody thought that I would ever get my lazy rear into gear and actually get back on track. Oh, and by the way, Daeion is LYING. I made him do nothing…I am simply an innocent bystander recording events…well, maybe not exactly innocent, but close enough. Glad you liked the twins lines. Those were actually my wonderful beta sibling's idea!

**Deep Sorrow- **Sibling! Another chapter up on time. Oh I am so proud. And those sweet covered heros are looking goooooood. Is that chocolate? One moment….um…here/thrusts keyboard into startled muse's hands and races off after confection covered elves and ranger/ (SM) Um…well I suppose I'm supposed to be responding here…of course, I already wrote out nearly the whole flocking chapter I mean, is a muse's work never done? But hey, I've bet you've noticed that since the more angstier chapters have come up they've gotten out on time…you know…cause I'VE been writing them. Maybe I should just go into fanfiction by myself…/Sadie returns, licking a very unhappy Legolas./ Want some? (SM) Forget everything I just said. /SM and Sadie eagerly share Mirkwood prince/


	13. What Will the Dawn Bring?

"You have heard the scout's reports, _hir nin_?"

"Aye."

"If they continue on their current course, the humans will enter our valley within a day's time."

Elrond turned toward his seneschal, a grim smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "They intend to enter Imladris, _mellon nin._"

The golden haired elf lord returned the smile. "Why do I bother to tell you anything? You already know everything."

"Not everything."

"No? Then it would surprise you to know that they are incredibly well armed and are approaching our home as they would a battle?"

There was a slight pause.

"No."

"See?"

Elrond could not help the grin that spread across his face. With a sigh, the dark haired elf lord leaned his elbows against the balcony railing, peering out over Imladris' peaceful twilight. He had been standing in this position more and more frequently over the past few days. It was here that he had the best view of the road entering his home. When the twins returned, (_when_, he reminded himself, not _if_), they would appear on that path.

It had been nearly a week since Legolas had been brought to the last Homely House's doors, more dead than alive. However, the prince was young. And he was an elf. He recovered swiftly. Perhaps not as swiftly as he would have wished, but faster than any human, his healing powers far outstripping even those of the Numenorian blood line. Already, Mirkwood's heir was moving about, restless. Granted, he could not move very far, nor very fast, but that was much better than any human would ever be able to boast.

A human probably would not have survived to make it back to Rivendell in the first place.

What state would Estel be in? Elrond's fingers closed into a fist, his gray eyes cold. The humans that approached were of the same band that was responsible for the appalling injuries Legolas suffered, and for the abduction of his youngest son.

The elf lord did not know if they were insane, or just stupid, but either way, he intended to make sure that they would regret overstepping the boundaries of his valley.

0-0-0-0

Halith pulled his horse to a halt. The moon shone down brightly, lighting his craggy features in silver. With a grim face, the human swiftly directed his captains to split their small army into five groups. They would enter from many points, bringing their assault against the elves quickly. Halith sighed softly as he watched his forces divide, his men swiftly leading their groups to strategic positions around the valley. They would wait until dawn, then in the early hours of the morning, they would all sweep forward, killing everything in their path until they met at the middle.

At least, he hoped that was what would happen.

Halith remembered an icy glare emenating from silver eyes. There was steel in those eyes. He shivered slightly. The ranger had been broken, he reminded himself sternly. He could not allow himself to believe otherwise.

With a sigh, the human dismounted and prepared to wait out the hours remaining till dawn…

0-0-0-0

Elrohir sank to the ground with a groan before the fire he had just created. He was tired. Bone tired, and starving. Looking back over the last few days he tried to remember the last time he had slept or eaten.

He couldn't bring it to mind. He had been running on adrenaline alone apparently. Food wasn't a big problem. In the woods, he or Elladan could catch something eventually. Sleep however…he needed that. An aching line of fire was throbbing across his ribs, reminding him that he was wounded as well.

But he would live. And more importantly, so would Estel. Elrohir glanced at his little brother, his fair face drawn with concern. At least, he hoped so.

Finding some way to travel with the young ranger had proved to be quite difficult. Estel was weak from days of torment, and a poison wreaked havoc with his endurance. Even riding on the one horse soon became impossible. The human did not have the strength to remain sitting upright. They attempted to have one twin ride behind Estel and hold him…but that too was not to be. The slightest pressure on his back caused the ranger incredibly agony, and though he tried to hide it, his brothers soon discovered his pain and refused to force him to endure it.

In a stroke of brilliance (Estel insisted that it was his only stroke and therefore more notable) Elladan recalled the sling Elrohir had constructed for Legolas, and suggested one similar for their little brother. To lessen the pain to his back, they made the sling large, allowing the horse to tow it with ease, and laid him in it face down. This speeded up their progress quite a bit. Unfortunately, it was still very slow. Neither twin wished for speed to increase their little brother's discomfort.

But the poison was doing that for them. It made him sick to hear the sharp intake of breath that came from the young human every time the sling hit a slight bump. It hurt him deeply to see his brother even now.

The ranger was asleep, his dark hair thrown over his face. The face was so pale. Dark shadows stood out under his eyes vividly. Even in slumber, his features were tense. Sweat stood out on his forehead. He had drifted into this uneasy repose shortly after they had halted for the night.

Elrohir glanced at his twin. Elladan had said very little since they left Daeion's quarters. Elrond's first born was seated, his head leaning back against a tree trunk, eyes half closed and unfocused. For a moment, Elrohir almost thought that he was asleep.

But there was something strange to his breathing. A hitch, that should not be there.

Elrohir frowned, then with a groan, lifted himself from the ground and crossed to his brother's side, sinking to his knees next to the young elf lord. "Dan?"

Elladan started, turning wide gray eyes toward his brother.

Wide…and strangely unfocused. Elrohir's own eyes narrowed. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Elladan replied quickly. Too quickly. But he did not need to answer. Elrohir had already caught sight of what was causing his twin's curious detatchment. He swore violently, but softly, not wishing to wake Estel. Carefully, he reached out and took hold of his twin's shoulder.

Elladan tried to resist for a moment, but Elrohir's withering look made him heave a sigh of resignation and allow the young elf lord to pull him forward, revealing his back. Elrohir swallowed hard. "When did this happen?"

A dark stain covered the greater portion of Elladan's back, and Elrohir did not have to be a genius to understand what it was. It looked as though the elder twin had been stabbed in the back. Though elves were stronger than humans, the sight of so much blood loss unnerved Elrohir. How long had Elladan been bleeding, and why had he not told anyone?

"The human I was chasing," Elladan said quietly. "I seized his shoulder and he swung backwards with a blade. I tried to evade the thrust but…"

"Why did you not tell me?" Elrohir snapped, resisting the urge to shake his brother. His worry flowed over into frustration.

"I thought you would react badly."

"_Badly_! What would make you think I would react _BADLY_!" The younger twin's voice steadily rose as he spoke until the last word came out as a hoarse shout.

Elladan clapped a hand over Elrohir's mouth. "Quiet." He cast a meaningful glance at the young ranger on the other side of the fire. "You will wake Estel."

Elrohir immediately yanked the hand away from his lips, his eyes dark. "You should have said something" He hissed, the acid in his voice belied by the gentleness of his hands as he removed his brother's blood soaked tunic. It was not easy. The blood had dried, effectively pasting the garment to the young elf lord's skin.

"I thought we had agreed not to notice each other's injuries," Elrond's firstborn gritted through his teeth. He winced as Elrohir slowly peeled away the cloth.

Elrohir winced himself. He knew this was causing Elladan pain. On the other hand, he felt slightly relieved. If the blood was dry, it meant that Elladan was not losing any more of the precious ruby liquid. Finally, the wound was revealed. Elrohir probed it gently with his long fingers and let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Though it _was_ deep, and would require stitching when they returned home, it was not life threatening. If only Elladan had said something before. He had lost a lot of blood. Enough to weaken him. Elrohir could see it in the way he sat, his head hanging slightly, the dark braids swinging about his pale face. His gray eyes were half unfocused, as though he were about to drift off to sleep.

Of course, the elder twin's exhaustion could have something to do with the fact that he had not slept in…how many days? Elrohir could not remember, his own weariness refusing to allow him to access the information.

There was no doubt about it. They were all in pretty poor shape. He, Elrohir, seemed to the most fit of them all, but…a twinge from his ribs reminded him that he was not entirely healthy either.

If it were just he and Elladan, he would have chosen to make their way back to Rivendell slowly, allowing time to travel without pressing themselves on in an unfit state. However it was not just them.

Elrohir cast worried eyes across the fire. He knew that Estel would not hear of them speeding their return and endangering their health all for his sake…but truth be told, he did not think that his little brother would be in a state to hear anything very shortly.

"I will not slow us down, Ro."

Elrohir brought his attention back to his twin sharply. "What?"

Elladan met his eyes. "I will not slow us down. We must get Estel to _Ada_ as quickly as possible. And I will not allow you to slow down for me." His grey eyes burned fiercely for a moment.

"Dan…you are hurt…"

"I will live. Estel must get those things out of him. He may not be able to endure very much more."

With great reluctance, Elrohir nodded. He did not wish to push Elladan, but knew that it might become neccesary.

Elladan allowed the corner of his mouth to tip upward as he saw his brother nod. With a sigh and a wince, he leaned back again the tree, his eyes sliding out of focus. "Wake me soon," he said softly. "And I will take my turn at watch."

"Of course." _When dwarves dance ballet, _ Elrohir thought. "Rest for now. I will wake you." His conscience stung him slightly for telling such an obvious falsehood, but not very badly. The younger twin settled himself down, preparing to wait out the night, and wondering what the dawn would bring.

0-0-0-0

What would the dawn bring? Halith wondered as he gazed at the group preparing to follow him through the elven valley.

0-0-0-0

What would the dawn bring? Elrond took one last look at the path that led into his valley, then with a sigh turned away, his noble face grim. Grey eyes burned in a fair face as the elf lord strode through the halls of his home. The humans who had taken his son were coming to him. And he would be ready.

0-0-0-0

Mellon nin- My friend 

_Hir nin-My lord._


	14. To Be a Man

**Okay, I am going to put these author notes in this chapter and in the last chapter, just so everyone catches what happened here. First off, let me offer my humble apologies for the very lengthy amount of time that has passed since I last posted anything. For those of you who saw the note I made on my profile page let me off a few more details. I was the victim of someone who I know using my trust and breaking into my e-mail account, deleting all of my personal letters and the reviews that I have received from all of you, then using my e-mail account to break into my account at FF-Net and delete all my stories. Fortunately I keep all my stories backed up, but I did lose all my wonderful reviews which makes me very sad because I really appreciated everything everyone ever sent me. After that, our computer crashed, so I could not access the internet for over a month in my home. But I am back now and I hope you all like the conclusion of my tale.:) Thank you all once again for your support and continued interest in my story. I deeply appreciate it.**

Legolas breathed deeply, enjoying the morning air. It was a pleasure he had not been able to indulge in since his arrival in Rivendell, and quite franky, if Lord Elrond had his way, he still would not. However, the healing wing had been abandoned for once, and the young prince had seized his chance. He was surprised that he had not been intercepted in the halls of the Last Homely House, considering how slowly he had been moving, but the entire building seemed to be empty.

Legolas moved stiffly through the garden until he came to a low stone wall. With a sigh, the prince allowed himself to sink to the ground, bracing his back against the cool stones, his bad leg stretched out before him. It throbbed unpleasantly. Legolas gritted his teeth and told it in no uncertain terms to stop whining, but the injured limb only responded with an extra painful twinge to let him know that whatever _he_ thought, _it_ agreed with Lord Elrond's diagnosis and would much rather be back in his bed.

Legolas sourly told his appendage to mind it's own business. He had been inside for over a week, thank you very much, and he would go insane if he had to look at the healing wing walls for one more minute.

Ignoring whatever arguments his leg decided to make, the fair elf tilted his head back, enjoying the warmth of the sun as it crept into the valley. He could hear the soft sounds of doves awakening in the trees near him, and the peaceful hum of the trees themselves. A gentle smile curled the corners of his lips as he closed his eyes and sighed blissfully.

The soft sound of a door opening and closing broke through Legolas' reverie with all the subtlety of shattering glass. Mirkwood's heir froze. If he were found out here…Horrible images featuring the Lord Elrond most prominently began to dance behind the blue eyes.

Ignoring the complaints from his bad leg, Legolas swiftly pulled himself over the low wall, ducking out of sight. He waited for a few moments,. His heart pounding against his ribs, but nothing happened. There were no cries of outrage…no one screaming his name or asking what in the name of the Valar was he doing out of be…The prince breathed a sigh of relief. He had not been spotted.

The sound that did reach his delicately pointed ears was that of someone pacing across the paved stones. Obviously, it was the step of an elf. The sound was barely audible and could easily have been mistaken for the sound of wind in the trees.

Now he was in a dreadful fix. He would have to wait until the elf left, or try to sneak past him. Legolas quickly dared a glance, trying to ascertain whom it was that just happened to visit this remote area.

The fair elf's heart quickly dropped into his stomach with a nearly audible 'thunk'. He had caught the sight of sunlight glinting off thick gold hair, the graceful step that looked almost like a lion stalking, a presence that was at the same time dignified, but with a wildness beneath the calm exterior.

Lord Glorfindel was pacing, his fingers drumming a tattoo against the hilt of his sword.

Legolas quickly dropped back out of sight. His thoughts soon became an unprintable list of obscure obscenities as he cursed the luck that should bring Lord Glorfindel to this garden at exactly this moment. Suddenly, Legolas froze, his ears perking up.

Glorfindel had stopped pacing.

"I know you're there," came his deep voice. "Show yourself." The casual authority laced into the elf lord's tone brooked no argument.

Legolas groaned, but did as he was told, slowly pushing himself to his feet. He grinned sheepishly as he rose into sight, but was shocked at the elf lord's reaction.

Glorfindel's eyes flew wide, his jaw dropping nearly to his chin. "_YOU_!"

Legolas certainly wasn't expecting that and wasn't quite sure what the appropriate reply would be so remained silent.

"Are you _mad_? _Ar gelydh ernil_!" Glorfindel crossed the distance between them in three long strides, stepping over the low wall and catching hold of Legolas' collar in an iron grip. "What do you think you are doing!"

Legolas was shocked at this verbal attack. Usually his escapes from the healing wing were met with stern disapproval, but all in all they were treated lightly. He was unused to such harsh language for such a seemingly innocent escapade. More than the words however was Glorfindel's expression. The elf lord was not only angry, he was worried.

"Did you think to take them on yourself?" Glorfindel snarled down at the young prince.

"I…I am afraid I do not know of what you are speaking…"

"Then what are these?" Glorfindel's free hand shot over Legolas' shoulder and seized the handle of one of the white knives the prince carried strapped across his back, drawing it forth so quickly it whistled through the air. "You are unwell! How on Arda could we explain to your father that you were killed fighting a horde of invading humans when you have barely recovered enough to walk from a beating that should have rightly ended your life!"

As he spoke, Glorfindel was already stepping back over the wall and pulling Legolas with him, propelling the young elf towards the door he had just recently emerged from.

Legolas' head spun. He had simply seized his knives out of habit…but what was this about humans? For the first time, Legolas noted that Glorfindel not only carried a sword, but there was a dagger at his belt and one thrust into his boot as well. The elf lord was on edge, not nervous, but definitely prepared for trouble of some kind…

Abruptly, Legolas dug his heels into the paved walk. "What is going on?"

"Did I say to stop moving?" Glorfindel did not have much trouble strong-arming the elf prince forward.

"I want to know what is happening!" Legolas ignored the fact that he sounded like a spoilt child, desperately trying to keep his booted feet from sliding over the stones as Glorfindel placed a heavy hand in the small of his back.

"If you do not keep walking I swear by Eru and all the Valar I am going to…"

But what Glorfindel was going to do, Legolas would never learn. The elf lord's eyes were pulled towards the trees ringing the garden and his jaw tightened horribly. With a sound halfway between a snarl and a curse, the golden haired elf pushed Legolas to the ground so that the prince was hidden behind a thick shrub. Legolas was too surprised to protest, especially as Glorfindel bent and hissed in his ear, "If you value your life, stay there. Do not move unless I tell you to or unless it would be dangerous for you to remain."

Straightening swiftly, the elf lord turned his fair face towards the woods, a grim expression on his face.

0-0-0-0

An uneasy feeling had been plaguing the back of his mind since they had started to descend into the valley of Rivendell. Halith tried to shrug it off. After all, everything had gone perfectly so far. The woods were silent except for the bird calls. Everything seemed to be exactly as Strider had said. No guards. A clear easy way into the valley of the elves.

Why, then, did he feel as though he were walking deeper and deeper into a hunter's snare? His men certainly did not share his apprehension. With every step their hearts seemed lighter. They swaggered and smiled as though the mission were through and they were back at the base already. With an effort, the human forced his doubts from his mind. They were nearing a clearing. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Dark brows pulled together over his cruel eyes. They had a job to do…

Through the thinning trees Halith caught a glimpse of golden hair, bright in the early morning sun. An elf. The color reminded him of the elf they had left for dead. With a jerk of his head, he signalled to his men. They broke immediately, racing forward.

Halith charged, hearing the whoops from his men as they too caught sight of the elf. But something was not right here… the weathered human's feet slowed unconsciously. His men were darting past him, weapons raised high.

Why did the elf not run? Sound an alarm? Anything? There was no possible way he had missed the five and twenty armed individuals running at him.

So why did he not flee?

0-0-0-0

Glorfindel cooly watched the humans approach. He was seething. It had been agreed upon between himself and Elrond that he would be the one to meet this particular group of humans, dispatching them. Elrond himself would be meeting the group that was approaching from the very mouth of the valley, along with a contingent of Rivendell's warriors. The scouts had believed that the human, Halith was among that particular pack of scum.

Though annoyed that he would not be able to help capture Halith, this was not what was perturbing the elf lord so greatly. What sent his temper into overdrive was the fact that he was standing over the heavily wounded heir to Mirkwood's throne. Legolas knew that he was in no shape to be fighting! Glorfindel ground his teeth together. When he found out who had let the prince know the humans were attacking, he would make sure that they were on kitchen duty for the next three millenia.

The first of the humans was almost upon him. Glorfindel could see the gleam of easy victory shining in his stupid face. The same gleam still shone, even as the elf lord's sword whipped through the air, taking his head as easily as drawing breath.

0-0-0-0

Halith stared in horror. His feet had come to a complete standstill as the elf's blade flew from its' sheath, like a horrible glittering bird. The sword took one human's head and stabbed another, slashing back to gut a third. In the space of three seconds, three of Halith's men lay dead.

In one horrible instant, the fierce blue eyes met Halith's dark, cunning ones. Halith saw his death written in the fiery gaze of an elf lord. He knew with sudden and horrible clarity that they had been deceived. This elf had been expecting them. And he fully intended to deal with their entire group.

Three more men had fallen to the razor edge of the elf's sword.

Strider had lied to them. If one elf could cause such destruction, what would a whole valley do? They would be slaughtered.

Halith turned and fled back into the woods.

0-0-0-0

Legolas saw Halith turn tail and run. Desperation flooded the elf prince's body. He was getting away! Glorfindel did not notice; the elf lord was busy dealing with the twenty some humans attacking him.

With a fierce cry, Legolas sprang to his feet and forced his injured body to pursue the fleeing human. Immediately, pain spread across his rib cage, reminding him that nearly half of his ribs had been broken and they were only partially healed. His leg throbbed agonizingly, letting him know that it had been less than a week since it had endured a vicious beating and it certainly did not feel up to pursuing this human.

The elf prince ignored the protestations of his injured body. His hands reached for the long handles of his knives, pulling the blades free as he ran. They glittered in the early morning sun.

He could not keep this up…the pain was increasing…Lord Elrond was going to be so angry at him when he found out what he had done. It felt as though several of his ribs had seperated within his chest and were straining to poke through his skin. His fair face twisted in agony, but he pushed himself on. Halith was close…

At the very end of his strength, Legolas dropped one of his weapons, and stretched out his left hand, seizing Halith's shoulder and pulling him around to face the elven warrior.

The dark haired human turned, his blade raised high, fear written plainly across his face. However, even wounded as he was, Legolas was faster than Halith could ever have hoped to be. The prince brought his other knife down in a swift arc. It was not a lethal blow…he did not want Halith dead, or he would never learn of what happened to Strider.

The knife carved a trail from the top of Halith's head, across his forehead, through his right eye and down his cheek.

The human shrieked in agony, tearing himself out of the elf's grasp, his sword dropping to the ground as his hands went up to cover the bloody wound where his eye used to be.

Legolas stumbled backwards. The fair elf bit down on his lips hard to stop himself from crying out. His left arm was not quite healed from being broken, and Halith had twisted it badly when he had pulled away. The elf caught himself against a tree his chest heaving as he fought to draw breath through the fire spreading across his ribs. "Where…is he?"

0-0-0-0

Rage shook the human. He was blind in one eye, and he knew instinctively that if he lived, he would never regain his vision. The pain was excruciating, but he knew he had to fight it back. He could not allow himself to be distracted by even the loss of his eye or he would end up dead.

"Where…is he?"

Halith focused through his left eye, his gaze coming to rest on the elf that had attacked him. He nearly choked in horror. He recognized this demon! Fair hair was held back from the pale face with delicate braids. Blue eyes burned bright and fierce. A dark line marred the elf's forehead. A cut that had not fully healed yet.

This was the elf they had left for dead.

Halith took all this in in a second before he dived for his sword, expecting at any moment to feel the sharp, lethal pain as the fair being's blade entered his flesh… and yet it did not come. The human snatched the hilt of his weapon, his hands sticky with his own blood and quickly whirled to face his opponent again.

But the elf had not moved.

0-0-0-0

Legolas watched Halith dive for his weapon. The prince gritted his teeth in frustration. If he had been anywhere near his normal level of fitness he would have landed a kick to the human's side that would have sent him flying.

As Halith came back up, his sword held at the ready, Legolas tried to push himself away from the tree, but realised instantly that without the tree's support he would quickly find himself flat on his face. "Where is he…human?" he spat.

The dark eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Who?"

"Strider." Legolas' teeth were bared in a snarl, his fingers clamped tightly around the hilt of his knife. "Where…" a gasp interrupted the elf. A piercing pain was invading his chest. "Where is Strider!" he forced the words through lips that did not want to work.

He did not think that Halith would answer him. The dark haired man simply raised his sword high, obviously intending to bring it down in a killing stroke, bringing Legolas' life to a quick and violent end.

But he froze. The single eye was focused on a point beyond the prince's helpless form, and Legolas saw the fear that entered into the human's gaze. The fair prince pricked up his ears, and knew instantly what it was that caused Halith to pause.

The sounds of battle were drawing closer. Legolas winced. Glorfindel must have realised that he had disobeyed the elf lord's orders and was coming after him.

Halith's attention swung back to Legolas. For an instant, the elf prince saw intense hatred stamped across the human's weathered features. The human had no time, but if he could, he would stay and make sure that Legolas never left these woods alive. Unfortunately for Halith, the sounds of Glorfindel's approach grew ever louder. The human had to make a decision. Revenge and death, or flight?

"He's dead," Halith spat. "Dead, do you hear me? He was killed after he told us what we wanted to know."

"No!" The word fell from Legolas' lips. He could feel the blood draining from his face even as he struggled to push himself towards the human. "No! No, you lie!"

Halith was not listening. The human was turning and fleeing, his dark hair streaming behind him and his feet carried him far away.

"NO!" Legolas forced his feet to carry him several steps away from the support of the tree, but he could not continue. His legs folded beneath him and he crumpled to the ground. On his hands and knees, the elf prince glared after Halith, tears running down his pale cheeks. "NOOO! Strider!" Fire was spreading throughout his ribcage. Something warm and liquid was dampening his tunic. He could not breath through the sobs that were shaking his slender frame. Frustration and rage mingled with grief. The prince's slender fingers clenched into tight fist as he struggled to rise.

A hoarse cry reached his ears and he felt strong hands grip his shoulders. Legolas turned his tearstained face upwards, and saw Glorfindel gazing down at him. What was wrong with the elf lord? His face was twisted in horror…worry…

Glorfindel was reaching towards the damp spot and, looking down, Legolas was shocked to see a patch of crimson spreading across his chest. One of his broken ribs had actually punctured through his skin.

Blackness started to crowd around the edges of his vision. He welcomed it. Slipping into the dark void would remove the pain from his body and heart. Willingly, Mirkwood's heir flung himself into oblivion.

0-0-0-0

Lord Elrond grimaced as he meticulously wiped human blood from the blade of his sword. The elf lord's grey eyes darkened as he gazed at the numerous fallen bodies. Thankfully, none of them belonged to his own people. His normally neat braids were frayed and tangled. A shallow cut across his forehead bled freely, but he was not concerned. He knew it to be a superficial injury.

Why had they done this? Surely they knew they had no chance of defeating the elves. So what had their agenda truly been?

The elf lord's mouth tightened into a grim line. He had assumed that their purpose in taking Estel had been to gain knowledge of the elves and their weaknesses. If they had launched such a truly ill prepared attack such as this, then what had happened to his son? Had Estel refused to tell them anything and they had killed him? Was he lying in some dark and dismal dungeon? Had he been harmed? Long, slender fingers turned white as he clenched them tightly around the hilt of his sword, his eyes smoldering as they looked past the silver blade. If Estel had been harmed…

"_Hir nin_!"

Elrond jerked, brought up out of his own private world suddenly. His dark braids whirled as he spun to face the elf calling to him. He was young, and Elrond knew him to be one of the healers' assistants. The youth's face was pale, and a worried expression was tracing lines across his forehead as he raced towards the dark haired elf.

Elrond swiftly brought his hand up, halting the elf. He kept his voice calm, though his heart skipped a beat at the sight of the other's expression. What had happened? "_Sidh, pen neth, nin si._ _Man na den_?"

"Sir…sir, Lord Glorfindel…"

The Lord of Imladris felt his heart drop from his chest. Glorfindel! He should not have allowed the golden haired elf to face that group on his own. "How badly is he hurt?" Already, Elrond was striding towards the healing wing.

"Very seriously, but sir…"

The moment the words left the assistant's mouth, Elrond was sprinting away. He could hear the young one saying something else, but he was not attending. Instead, his booted feet carried him onwards faster and faster. Glorfindel had insisted that he be allowed to face the humans on his own. The other elves were need elsewhere, he had insisted. No one had thought to argue with the balrog slayer.

Elrond flew through the doors to his home and pelted towards the healing wing, his speed marked by the sharp staccato of his feet on the stone floor. Elves quickly pushed themselves up against the wall to avoid the dark haired warrior. Elrond's gray eyes did not seem to see them.

His hand flashed out, snatching at the latch that held the healing wing's door shut against him. In a moment, he had flung back the wooden portal and sprang into the room… "Glorfindel!" Shock froze him in his place. Elrond's mouth dropped onto his chest as he stared at the scene before him.

A golden haired elf was seated beside a bed, his shoulders hunched forward. A small group of healers were surrounding the bed, obstructing Elrond's view of who lay upon it. Obviously, they had done all they could. This picture, in and of itself, was not so surprising. What stopped Elrond cold was the fact that he recognized the elf seated by the bed, and knew at once that he was not injured in any way shape or form.

Glorfindel turned at the sound of his Lord's voice. The elf's fair face was drawn, his lips set in a grim line. "I am sorry, Elrond."

Elrond recalled that the assitant had been trying to tell him something else, and now wished that he had stayed to hear what it was. With a feeling of dread clutching at his heart, the dark haired elf stepped forwards. The healers moved out of his way silently, parting before him and allowing to step to the side of the bed and gaze down at its' occupant.

He knew what he was going to see.

Somehow, he knew. He knew before he looked down at the pale, bloodstained face. He knew before he saw the golden braids spread across the pillow. Without a shadow of a doubt, Lord Elrond knew that the bed contained the Crowned Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Thrandulion.

He was, most unfortunately, correct.

"I tried to to stop him," Glorfindel said quietly as Elrond swiftly seated himself beside the young elf and began to exam the wounds. "He was already in the garden by the time I arrived, and before I could take him back into the healing wing the humans were upon us. I pushed him out of sight behind some bushes and told him to remain there unless his life was threatened." Glorfindel's mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. "During the battle I saw him rise and pursue a fleeing human. When I tried to follow, I found my way blocked by assailants. I despatched them and came after the prince as quickly as I could, but by the time I reached him…" Glorfindel spread his hands in a helpless gesture, a look of frustration stamped across his fair features.

"You did what you could," Elrond said quietly, his dark head bent over the young prince. He knew the frustration that Glorfindel felt. The elf lord blamed himself for Legolas' condition. Surely he, the balrog slayer, should have been able to stop such a comparably young elf!

While Glorfindel had been speaking, Elrond gently removed the bandage that had been wrapped around Legolas' rib cage. As the blood stained cloth fell away, the Lord of Imladris felt his eyes widen. "Did one of the humans…" even as he started to ask, Elrond heard his voice trail away. He knew the answer even before he finished asking the question. This wound had not been inflicted by any weapon. The dark haired elf swallowed hard. Stupid, stupid young elf! Why had he done this to himself! What had been his intent? Surely he believed Glorfindel capable of catching a single human! With a grim sigh, Elrond set to work. His assistants had done what they could, but there was still a long and delicate job ahead of him.

As he probed the wound, Elrond made a mental note to have the prince tied to his bed when he regained consciousness once more.

0-0-0-0

"_I received no message." The words rolled from Legolas' tongue, falling heavily into the still air._

_Legolas saw his friend's silver eyes opening wide in confusion. Aragorn's lips parted, as though he was about to speak, but he was given no chance. Without warning, a hand seized the young ranger's shoulder, jerking him away from his friend. Legolas cried out in outrage, but to his horror, he found that he was unable to move. His limbs were frozen. "Strider!"_

_A knife appeared in the hand and pressed itself against Aragorn's neck. Legolas strained to see whom the hand belonged to, but all he could make out was a shadowy figure standing behind the ranger. Evil, and threatening, but the features remained indistinguishable._

"_Let him go!" Legolas hissed. His teeth ground together in frustration, but he was powerless to help his friend._

_The only reply was a mocking laugh. Suddenly, with the speed of a striking snake, the shadowy figure expanded, engulfing the young ranger. Aragorn disappeared with a cry of fear._

_A shriek of rage forced it's way through the elf prince's lips. "NO!" As hard as he struggled, he could not force his limbs to carry him forward. He could not aid his friend… "Where is he!" Tears stung Legolas blue eyes as he glared at the apparition._

_Laughter, evil and taunting filled the air. It nearly drove Legolas mad. "Where is Strider!"_

_The figure's features emerged slowly and if he were able, Legolas would have recoiled. It was a horrific sight. Dark strands of hair hung over the lined and weather beaten face. One eye gleamed cruelly, dark and intelligent. The other was lost in a pulp of blood and flesh. A gash had been carved across the face, starting from the forehead, running through what used to be an eye and making its' way across his cheek. Halith bared his teeth at the fair prince. "He's dead." The human lunged forward abruptly, his dagger held at the ready. "And so are you!"_

_Legolas cried out again, this time in pain and horror as the blade pierced his chest. He tried to twist away from the pain, but he was still unable to move. Now he could feel hands holding him, and he fought against them wildly, but it did not avail him._

"_Hold him still!" Halith snarled as he pushed the knife in more deeply, making Legolas gasp in agony._

"_Hold him still!" The voice was Halith's…and at the same time, not Halith's. The human's mouth was moving, but the voice that came from his lips was much deeper. Legolas froze for an instant. He knew this voice…_

_Before his eyes, Halith started to blur and fade. The pain did not dissipate, however. If anything, it grew worse as Legolas felt himself rising from the claws of a nightmare…_

_0-0-0-0_

"Hold him still!"

Legolas jerked reflexively as he felt a sharp stabbing pain through his rib cage. Confused and woozy, the elf's eyes darted around in fear. For a moment, he thought he must be back within the confines of the nightmare. There were hands holding him tightly, a horrible pain in his chest, as though he were being stabbed, and a voice commanding he be held…

Lord Elrond's face suddenly appeared within his sight. The dark haired elf looked exceedingly grim, but the lines of his forehead lightened somewhat when he realized that Legolas' eyes were open. "Legolas," his deep voice calmed the young elf, even as the prince wondered at the anger he could see in the gray eyes. "You must be still. I've already had to set your ribs twice, and I do not appreciate you trying to undo all my work."

Legolas blinked, confused. Turning his head to the side, he saw (to his relief) that his arms were being held not by humans, but elves. Glorfindel himself had taken Legolas left side. The elf prince ceased his movements immediately, forcing himself to relax.

"Why did you do it, Legolas?" Glorfindel's voice was taut with frustration. "I gave you specific instructions to _stay where you were_. Why did you disobey me?"

"The human…" Mirkwood's heir moistened his lips, wondering at what point someone had seen fit to drive a sharp stake through his chest. "Halith."

Every elf's eyes opened wide. Elrond bent over his patient, his anger towards the young elf disappearing. "You saw Halith?"

"Aye." Tears suddenly filled Legolas' blue eyes as he recalled what had happened underneath Rivendell's trees. "I followed him. I tried to stop him." A warrior's pride made him grind his teeth together in an effort to suppress the sobs that sought to tear free from his lungs. Why could he have not stayed in the comforting darkness? Why must he be the one to tell Lord Elrond what happened? Halith's sneering face rose in his memory. Aragorn was dead…Legolas opened his mouth to tell Elrond what had happened to the elf lord's youngest son, but found himself unable to say the words. Somehow, it seemed that if he said them aloud, it would make them true.

Elrond peered deeply into Legolas' blue eyes. "Did you speak to him?"

Legolas nodded once, miserably. "I asked…I asked him where Strider was."

"Did he answer?"

The fair elf nodded again. Elrond saw the pain and sorrow in the prince's eyes. He did not want to know what the human said. He didn't want to know… "What did he tell you, Legolas?"

The young elf closed his eyes and bit his lip. His mouth moved, forming words, but only a lip reader could have understood what he was trying to convey. However, for the lord of Rivendell, it was enough. The dark haired elf straightened abruptly.

"Glorfindel, take a company of warriors. Find his trail. There is still a chance he might be caught. You," Elrond indicated a young healer with a nod of his head. "Watch over the prince. Please make sure that he does not stir from his bed again." The last comment was half aimed at Legolas. The gray eyes met Legolas' once more, offered the young prince what comfort he could afford to give, then Elrond was gone, taking Glorfindel and the rest of the elves with him, leaving Legolas alone but for the healer.

Legolas lay back, staring up at the ceiling. Strider was gone. The prince would never travel with him to Mirkwood again, never sit at his side by a fire, never hear his laugh…

To the healer's confusion and distress, Mirkwood's crowned prince turned his face into his pillow, closed his eyes and wept.

0-0-0-0

_Several days later._

0-0-0-0

"Hold on."

Elladan stroked the dark, sweat soaked strands of hair from his little brother's forehead, feeling the young ranger's pale skin burn with fever as his body fought the poison racing through his veins. The elder twin shuddered convulsively. Estel was so ill… It frightened Elladan to hear his brother murmur in delirium, crying out in pain and horror when his mind transported him back to the dungeon that he had been rescued from. It hurt his heart unbearably when the ranger called for his brothers to come for him, begging their help, saying over and over how sorry he was for the words he had spoken. During the worst moments, the twins had found that it calmed Aragorn if one of them held him close, despite the fact that they knew they must be hurting him even more.

"Hold on," Elladan whispered again, feeling his throat clog with tears. They were near home now. He knew the land that surrounded them. Unfortunately, their progress had slowed even more. Aragorn could not stand to travel very long before he would be crying out in pain.

Normally, traveling home from this place, it would take merely half a days journey. Elladan had even considered sending Elrohir ahead to bring help, but as his twin had pointed out, neither of Elrond's twins were able to lift Estel onto the sled they had constructed without help. Ordinarily, it would not have been a problem, but with their injuries they were weakened more than either of them wanted to admit.

Elladan's grey eyes drifted from one brother to the other. Estel lay to his left, Elrohir on the right. The younger twin was sprawled in troubled sleep, his eyebrows knit close together as though his dreams were as turbulent as his waking moments. Dark braids, frayed and tangled, draped themselves across his fair skin. Suddenly, he looked very like Estel. The similarity had never impressed itself upon Elladan before, and for a moment, he felt doubly burdened. He closed his eyes tightly, screwing them shut against the mild late afternoon light.

The softest sound in the world brushed Elladan's delicately pointed ear. To the young elf lord, it was as though someone had blasted a trumpet next to his head. His eyes flew open. Again, the sound drifted to meet him, as welcoming as a warm drink on a winter's day.

Careful not to disturb his brothers, Elladan rose to his feet, steadying himself against a tree trunk. Stumbling only a little, the dark haired elf quickly set off through the forest.

"_Utuvye i adan?_"

Elladan froze for a moment, catching himself against a tree. The sound of the elvish tongue nearly brought tears of joy to his eyes.

"_Avye._"

Elladan cleared his throat quickly and called out, "_Mae govannen, edhil. Tolo le ello Imladris?_"

A startled cry answered him, followed by the swift sound of elvish feet. The very sounds he had followed through the woods. Within moments, the young lord was surrounded by a company of his father's warriors.

0-0-0-0

Lord Elrond stared out over his valley. Moonlight lit everything from the trees to the sparkling waters of the Bruien, outlining the smallest detail in silver. It created a fantasy world, the beauty of which would be enough to touch a heart constructed of steel.

Elrond was oblivious to it. His grey eyes swept over his land without seeming to see anything that lay before them. Oh, he saw silver, but it was not the silver of moonlight. Instead, the silver of a young boy's eyes danced before his vision. Tears swam in the elf lord's vision, letting the moonlight turn them as silver as his youngest son's.

Dark hair blocked his vision as Elrond allowed his head to drop, bowing under the weight of grief he bore. How strange it was to think that just days ago he had waited in this very spot, watching for his sons to return. Now he stood here knowing that one never would. Long, slender hands tightened convulsively around the balcony rails.

His elves still searched for Halith. They ranged throughout the land surrounding Imladris, searching, always searching. And here he waited for them to return with some sign of the human who had caused so much misery…

A slight movement caught the elf lord's attention. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the pass that he had watched days before in the hopes of seeing his sons return… Yes. There were horses entering the valley bearing elven riders. A band of his warriors had returned. Perhaps they had brought some good news.

With a flutter of his robes, Elrond turned from the balcony rail and made his way towards the courtyard.

0-0-0-0

Elrohir lifted his head slightly as he and his twin rode through the gates to their home. The dark haired elves shared a horse, Elladan riding in front, and Elrohir behind, his arms clasped tightly around his brother's slender frame, making sure that the elder would not slide from the horse's back. Elladan had fallen asleep some time ago and leaned against the steed's neck in peaceful slumber at last. Elrohir did not begrudge him his rest. He knew that both of them sorely needed what sleep they could find. The younger twin cast a worried glance over his shoulder.

Four of his father's warriors rode behind him, each taking a corner of the sled Elladan and Elrohir had constructed to convey Estel home. Carrying the sled in such a manner reduced the jolting the young ranger received and allowed the elves to move with more speed.

A hoarse cry brought the young elf lord's head whipping back around, his tangled braids flying about his pale face. There, standing in the doorway, stood the Lord of Imladris. Elrond's face was white, his jaw hanging open. "_Iyn nin_!"

The pure relief that came from Elrond's voice when he spoke made Elrohir want to jump from his horse and run to his father's embrace. However, he realized with a grimace of pain, even if he were not holding Elladan in place he really was not up to running at the moment.

The need for him to move became unneccesary as Elrond dashed from the doorway and sprinted across the courtyard. Elrohir leaned down as far as he dared without losing his grip on his twin, and caught hold of his father's hand as the elf lord reached up to him.

"You are safe," Elrond said quietly, relief plainly evident in his voice. His gray eyes quickly flitted over his second born's frame, noting the blood stains and slashed garments. The lines around his mouth tightened with anger, even as worry poured from his gaze when he turned to Elladan.

"It is all right, _Ada,_" Elrohir reassured his parent. "Dan sleeps. He has been wounded, but he will live." The younger Noldor cast a glance over his shoulder again, seeing the elves behind him dismount with eerie grace, never once jostling the litter on which rested a burden so precious…

Noting Elrohir's look, Elrond followed his son's line of sight, confused. For a moment, he could not process what his gray eyes were telling him they were seeing. Elrohir looked down at his father in shock as he saw the elf lord's face turn deathly white. For a moment, the elven warrior feared his parent would faint and he tightened his grip on Elrond's slender fingers. "_Ada!_"

"Estel," Elrond breathed. "He…he lives?" The elf lord fastened his gaze on his son's face, desperate to hear his words confirmed. Elrohir opened his mouth, but before he could speak a word, a low moan sounded from the sled on which Aragorn rested.

The ranger twitched spasmodically in his fevered dreams and a cry escaped his lips. "_Ada…"_

"_Estel, nin si. Echo, ion nin. Le bar._" Speaking softly and comfortingly Elrond moved to the side of his youngest, his heart breaking to hear the fear in the ranger's voice.

Elrohir bit his lip as he saw the grief in his father's face. He knew what the elf lord was experiencing. He and Elladan had gone through it for days. To hear the torment of one who was much loved and not be able to comfort them was a torture of the heart. For Aragorn obviously did not hear the words his father was speaking. The young man's eyes were wide open, but they did not see what was before them. His lips moved in a hoarse plea. "_Gohena nin, Ada. Gohena bethath nin. Gohena…"_ his voice died away, yet his mouth still formed the words silently.

Tears obscured Elrond's vision for a moment as he gently stroked the sweat soaked strands of hair from Aragorn's forehead. The dark haired elf's eyes moved over his son's form, much as they had when he had first seen the twins. Again, his mouth tightened with anger as he noticed the bruises, the obvious pain his child was in… Dark eyebrows drew downwards into a V. Elrond peered closely at Aragorn's back, at a loss to explain the irregular ridges that appeared under the ranger's flesh. His hand was reaching out to touch them when his wrist was seized in an iron grip. Startled, Elrond looked up and met the eyes of his eldest. Elladan was breathing heavily, his skin unnaturally pale, but he did not loose his hold. Elrohir was dismounting behind him, concern for his twin written plainly across his face.

"You cannot touch them, _Ada_," Elladan managed. "It will hurt him horribly. Take him to the healing wing. Ro and I will explain everything on the way."

0-0-0-0

Elrond's hands moved gently and swiftly. The elf lord's face was a terrible mask of grief and rage, making his assistants wish they could shrink back into the shadows, but it was not possible. Their lord needed them to be exactly where they should, so as not to prolong his son's agony more than was absolutely neccesary.

Elladan and Elrohir had informed their father of what had happened, and were being tended themselves nearby, their gray eyes never leaving the limp form of their brother. Elrond had drugged the young ranger, forcing a potion between his lips and down his throat. That had been a difficult task, for Estel had twisted and writhed, choking on the brew. However, Elrond knew that there was no way he would be able to complete the task at hand if his son were conscious. The pain would have been too intense.

For both parties.

With a quick wrench, the elf lord pulled free the first wand that had been embedded in the human's flesh. It glistened with Estel's blood in the light of the healing wing. A choking sound rose from one of the twin's. Elrond swallowed hard, forcing back the rage that threatened to cloud his vision and make his hands tremble. He could not think like an outraged father. He must think like a healer. With grim determination, he placed the wand on a tray an assistant held out for him and turned back to his patient.

0-0-0-0

"When will he wake, _Ada_?" Elladan and Elrohir sat beside their younger brother's bed as their father finished washing his hands. Elrond turned, weariness etched in his face. The elf lord smiled wanly at his dishevled sons. It was hard to tell who at the moment looked worse. He had not slept, been through a battle, believed one or more of his children to have died a tortured and prolonged death, and had his son brought back to life only to have to perform an intricate and delicate procedure that he knew would cause the young ranger to be in terrible pain when he woke.

If he woke.

The twins however, had been on the road for weeks, seen their friend beaten badly, fought their fair share of battles as well, been wounded rather badly, and had been forced to endure the torment of listening to their sibling's crys of distress without being able to comfort him.

Elrond would not be surprised if this episode had not taken years off all of their immortal lives. He could only be grateful that one of the troupes of his warriors who were searching for Halith happened to pass close to where his sons were resting.

"I do not know." The dark haired elf lord sighed dismally and set himself down between his sons. His long fingers gently stroked back the dark strands of hair that had escaped from their snarled braids. "If I were judging just by the potion I gave him, I would say that he would wake in perhaps a day." His gray eyes slid from the haggard faces of the twins, to the features of his youngest. There were lines of pain drawn there that might never fade. "But his body has endured much. Not only has he had the trauma of having those…things…in his flesh, but there is also the poison they were coated with." Elrond's eyes flashed brilliantly for a moment, smoldering with the intensity of his rage…when the dark haired elf continued, his voice was tight, as though he were forcing himself to keep it steady. "I do not know when he will wake." _It was not fair_ he thought bitterly. _To be given a treasure back only to have it threatened the moment you have it in your hands._

"What you are saying, _Ada_," Elrohir said quietly, "is that you do not know _if_ he will wake at all."

Elladan started violently, his eyes swinging around to pierce his brother. The elder twin opened his mouth to voice a hot rebuke, but Elrond held up a hand, silencing him. Elladan turned his gaze to his father, his eyebrows drawn together in a fierce expression. His scowl melted away, however, when he saw the look of pain that marked the elder elf's features.

"Yes." Elrond slowly ran his hand through his hair, and was surprised to notice that it was trembling. "That is what I am saying."

Elladan remained uncharactaristically silent. With a sigh, the young elf reached out and took hold of his parent's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Elrohir silently leaned his head against Elrond's other shoulder, offering comfort without words.

The elder elf accepted the support gratefully, even as he wrapped his arms around his sons and gave it in return.

0-0-0-0

Time seemed to pass slowly for the elves. The days drifting by in a nearly silent parade. One day. Two. Before their eyes, death grudgingly released it's hold on the ranger, but the young man refused to wake.

Three. Four.

The twins kept an unceasing vigil at their brother's bedside, leaving only when Elrond forced them to rest, and only then because Legolas offered to keep watch and alert them if anything changed.

Five. Six.

The night of the sixth day was no different from the rest. It entered Imladris silently, drawing a restful blanket of peacefulness over all who dwelt there. But one thing had dramatically changed.

In the last homely house, Aragorn opened his eyes.

0-0-0-0

Estel woke with a start, and for an instant, could not think of where he might be. The surface beneath him was soft and yeilding, not the stone of his cell. Instead of the rank smell of those who had inhabited the dungeon before him there was a cool scent of lavender. He was lying on his stomach and his hands were free, not bound as they had been for so long.

And the pain he had endured for so long was gone. Not _completely _gone, he realized as he sought to push himself up into a sitting position. An ache reminded him of the torture he had gone through. Pushing his feet over the side of the bed (he was in a _bed_!) he looked down at his torso, half expecting to see the old ropes bound tightly around him, keeping the terrible wands embedded in his flesh. There were bindings, but they were soft linen, and he recognized them as the bandages they were. A soft sound of disbelief escaped his lips as he fingered the bandages in wonder. He was beginning to regain his equilibrium now. His brothers had come for him. They had rescued him from Daeion. He remembered leaving…but he did not remember arriving in the place where he was now.

A soft candle was the only light that shone in the dark room, but it was enough for Aragorn's sharp eyesight to pick out the long rows of beds…now that he concentrated he could smell the sharp, pleasant odor of the healing plants his father used. Swift tears blurred his vision. He was home…

"It's about time."

The young ranger started. His eyes flew to the far corner of the room to see a slim shadow detatch itself from one of the beds and slowly stride forward. The candlelight gleamed in his pale hair, shining in the blue eyes.

Aragorn immediately felt a lump form heavily in his throat. This was most inconvenient as there were a great deal of things he wanted to say…Unfortunately, he chose at that moment to recognize the fact that Legolas was walking heavily, and that there were bandages peeking out of the top of the prince's soft tunic. It was his fault that his friend had been hurt. The lump swelled to twice it's original size.

Legolas eyed the young ranger calmly. "It has been a week since the twins brought you home." A moment of silence passed uncomfortably. "You should not be sitting up. Your father and brothers will be most upset if they find you so." The elf prince waited for Aragorn to say something, but the ranger still could not force words from his mouth. Finally, with a soft sigh, the fair warrior turned as though to go. "I told them I would inform them if you awoke." He started to move away.

Aragorn watched him go in desperation. Stupid lump… "Legolas!" The word came out half strangled and nearly silent, but it caught the elf's ear. He turned, his face carefully blank.

"Legolas…" Aragorn's silver eyes were sad and haunted. "I am sorry. So sorry."

The prince drew in a deep breath and released it. In those words, he heard all that his friend was trying to tell him. Strider was sorry he had not thought of his family and friends. He was sorry he had not delivered the message to Legolas personally. He was sorry his friend had been hurt. He was sorry for his own foolishness that had embroiled them all in this mess.

A soft smile tweaked the corners of Legolas' mouth. "So…" he said quietly. "There was a message?"

Aragorn smiled back. "Yes. There was a message. And it was wonderfully worded."

"A supreme work of wit and excellent vocabulary, I am sure."

"I sense a note of disbelief in your voice, _mellon nin_."

"A note? Nay, Strider."

Aragorn's eyebrows rose in skeptecism.

"Tis an entire symphony _you _hear, _dunadan_."

Aragorn groaned, but his eyes were alight with happiness. Legolas quickly moved to his friend's side and placed a gentle, but firm hand upon his shoulder. "Lie back. I will return shortly with your brothers and your father."

The elf prince slid from the room on silent feet, leaving Aragorn alone. The young ranger drew in a deep breath, smelling the sharp scent of his father's herbs, the cool lavender of the bedsheets and another indescribable odor that was prevelant only in this valley…

A weary, satisfied smile spread across his face.

He was home.

0-0-0-0

Lord Elrond breathed deeply the scent of his gardens, enjoying the fragrance that wafted through the air of his home. It had been nearly two weeks since his sons had returned,and he was just now allowing himself to relax somewhat. The dark haired elf leaned against a tree for a moment, enjoying the roughness of the bark and the peaceful melody that hummed through the branches above him.

Legolas and the twins were all but recovered. There was still some stiffness to the prince's usually supple stride, and Elladan winced slightly when raising his arms in a certain way, but for the most part, they were well on their way to healing.

Estel regained his strength much more slowly. The young man _had_ been through more physical trauma, it was true, but the human was simply not as swift to recover as his brothers and friend.

However, the elf lord was quick to notice a very large change in the young ranger. For the first time in his extensive memory, Elrond realized that Estel was not chafing in his enforced stay within the healing wing's walls. The human seemed content to be still, regardless of the antics of the swifter healing elves surrounding him.

Perhaps miracles did happen.

"_Ada_."

Elrond turned, startled. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he had not heard the shuffling step of his youngest approach. With a sigh, Elrond mentally retracted his former comment on miracles and went to take his son's arm. To his surprise, Estel did not pull away and loudly declare that he was fine…he could walk on his own…he did not need help… Instead, the young man gratefully leaned against his father's steadying arm, allowing the elf lord to lead him to a stone bench.

Aragorn smiled as he sank down onto the cool marble seat. "_Hannon le, Ada_."

"And what exactly are you doing out of the healing wing?" Elrond asked gently, seating himself beside his son, even as he wondered at this new compliance.

"I wished to speak to you," the ranger said evenly. "And you _did _say that I might get out of bed today."

"Getting out of bed and walking down into the gardens without telling anyone or requesting assistance are two entirely different things," Elrond remarked dryly.

Aragorn nodded gravely. "Indeed." The silver eyes sparkled for a moment, though his face remained placid. "However, I did receive the very great pleasure in discovering that while in this state I was still able to sneak past the assistant healer."

The dark haired elf lord quickly smothered his own grin. "I suppose your brothers have told you what has been happening with the warriors?"

"Aye." The eyes lost their sparkle abruptly. "They have found no trace of Halith as of yet." His fingers worried at the hem of his tunic for a moment. "But Elladan and Elrohir are certain that they soon will." The doubtful tone of his voice let Elrond know exactly what Estel's opinion on the matter was. The young man turned towards his parent abruptly, dark hair swing around his face. "_Ada_, that is not what I came to speak to you about."

Elrond surveyed his son's face closely. He noted with a healer's satisfaction that this face was rested, more peaceful than that of the young man who had arrived on a litter two weeks ago. A father's concern, however, also recognized that there were faint lines of pain etched upon Aragorn's features. In time, they might fade, just as the scars on his back. But it hurt him to see the evidence of cruelty on his son. "_Man anirlye pennich?_"

For a few moments, Aragorn did not speak. The silver eyes traveled over Elrond's face, stopping as they met the calm, grey gaze of the elf lord. "I…I am sorry, _Ada_."

Elrond's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. "_An man, ion nin_?"

"I was so absorbed in my own pettiness that I did not stop and consider what I was doing."The ranger's jaw tightened ever so slightly. "In my overwhelming desire to be thought of as a 'man', I acted as a fool. I put the lives of my brothers, your sons, at risk. Legolas might have been killed…" Aragorn turned from his father and leaned forwards, putting his face in his hands. The young man's voice continued, muffled by his fingers. "I caused you pain. You were worried for me. The twins as well. And Legolas. Please, _Ada_," Aragorn straightened suddenly and met his father's gaze. "I never _meant_ to hurt any of you. Yet it is my fault that this happened." It seemed as though he wished to say more, but his voice would not continue.

Elrond longed to wrap the boy in his arms, but he knew that the wounds upon Aragorn's back were still too tender to allow for such an embrace. Instead, he placed a hand on his son's cheek, feeling the harsh stubble against his skin. There was a time when this cheek was smooth and soft baby skin. So short a time ago it seemed, and yet, he now realized, so long. This was no longer a child, but an adult. And he could not have chosen better words to prove to his parent that he had grown up.

"I forgive you, Estel," Elrond said quietly. Tears swam in his eyes as he gazed at his son. In his mind's eye he could see a dark haired toddler with gleaming silver eyes reaching up to his father and brothers, hoping to be tossed into the air. The image was chased away by the serious twenty three year old sitting before him, lines of pain and dearly bought wisdom scouring his young face, the shadow of a beard darkening his cheeks.

"It would seem," the elf lord finally managed, "That you have learned what it takes to be a man." Elrond smiled as a tear traced it's way down his face. "I am proud of you"

Aragorn's face crumpled even as he grabbed hold of his father and enveloped him in a fierce hug.

How long the two stayed there they did not know, nor did they care. Time slipped away unheeded by the immortal elves, and for a moment it loosed it's hold upon the young man held in his father's arms.

**Finish.**

**There you go! For everyone who wanted to see Halith die a horrible and painful death…I am sorry but once I come up with a really good villain I have to keep him around for a while. Don't worry. He'll be coming back around another time. /evil smile./ Thanks again everybody! I hope to start another story soon, so maybe I will see you all then!**

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Ar gelydh ernil!-Prince without wisdom! 

_Hir nin- My lord_

_Sidh, pen neth. Nin si. Man na den?-Rest, young one, I am here. What is it?_

_Utuvye i adan?-Did you find the human?_

_Avye-I did not._

_Mae govannen, edhil. Tolo le ello Imladris?- Well met, elves. Do you come from Imlradris?_

_Estel, nin si. Echo, ion nin. Le bar.- Estel, I am here. Wake, my son. You are home._

_Iyn nin-my sons._

_Gohena nin, Ada. Gohena bethath nin- Forgive me, Father(daddy) forgive my words._

_Man anirlye pennich?-What do you desire to say?_

_An man?-for what?_

0-0-0-0


End file.
